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#robert pattinson x reader smut
swtki · 2 years
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Empty Lot - C.D
Pairing: Cedric Diggory x Fem! Reader
Summary: It’s truly hard to find alone time the summer after you graduated from Hogwarts, luckily your parents gifted you a small muggle vehicle.
Warnings: 18+ NSFW content, muggle born! reader, AU(no death), public sex, car sex, unprotected vaginal sex, cream pie, pull out method, cum shot on stomach, fingering, kissing, vanilla sex, swearing.
A/N: This is just me rewriting the last date I had with my bf :,) also this is not proof read. AND BEFORE THE DRACO STANNIES HAVE MY HEAD: I use his tags because you people will like but refuse to reblog so :/ sacrifices!
IF YOU LIKE, PLEASE REBLOG. LIKING MEANS NOTHING, LIKING WON’T SPREAD THE WORK I GIVE YOU FOR FREE
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Living at home sucked.
There was no privacy, even with both of my parents gone they still had muggle devices in and around our house to record at all times, meaning whenever I was home alone, I wasn’t really alone.
“No boys, we’ll be watching the cameras.”
I was literally an adult. So when me and Cedric did see each other, it was at his place. Though, his dad rarely left the house so it was hard enough to kiss, never mind fuck. His father even banned us from sitting on the bed at the same time, I missed him. I missed his body pressed up to mine, I missed the way his dick pushed around my guts, I missed everything about Cedric.
So, when I got the small car for my birthday, of course I saw way more potential than just driving to my muggle job.
I picked him up from the corner from which he apparated onto. Finally parking in a empty lot with a service road at least 400 feet away from the car. I smiled at him and said “You want to…?”, I gestured to the back of the car. Before I had left home I had told my Mum that I’d be putting down the seats and removing the headrests in the back to do so, you know, so I could see better out of my rear window.
We moved my bag into the front seat and settled in the back of the car, laying flat to avoid any passerby’s who may glance towards the window. But to be honest, I knew nobody would approach a car so far from the entrance to the store. I wouldn’t.
I turned to him and said “Do you want me on top or missionary?”. He pondered for a minute, then finally said,
“It’ll be better in missionary.” And I nodded. Quickly we both pulled down our pants, and I pulled him in for a kiss. Our tongues danced together as if it were the yule ball we met at. I pulled away, panting, and guided his hand towards my aching cunt.
“Is this okay?” I asked him, to which he smiled and leaned down to kiss me again. I felt his fingers circle around my clit, and then dip into me to gather the wetness that had been pooling only centimeters away from where his fingers just were. He smoothly thrusted his fingers in and out of me, making a soft squelching noise. “Cedric-“ My hand gravitated down, circling my bud as his fingers went deeper and deeper with each thrust. My hips bucked, my vision turned white, and I was in heaven.
I panted as he got between my legs. His chest touched mine and I wrapped my legs around his waist. “You ready?” He asked, caressing my face with his hand.
“Fuck me.” was all the encouragement he needed. He stretched me open, my hands clinging to his sides as he bottomed out. He didn’t wait to move, he just started pounding into me with the sweetest speed I’d ever felt. His face fell into my neck, and I could hear his moans being muffled by my skin. With every thrust I moaned his name out. “Cedric, fuck, Cedric I love you!” I don’t think he heard me, because he just kissed me and tucked his head back down. Usually when I say I love you during sex he says it back.
His hips started to go faster and suddenly I was no longer full but feeling a hot liquid drop on my stomach. I reached for the towel I had put next to me and wiped it away best I could. He was panting and I pulled him back down into an embrace. He eventually pulled himself back to a kneeling position over me.
He said, “What if I just go back in.” And he chuckled.
“Do it.” I said, and once again was full of him.
His thrusts were still strong and I felt his lips on my neck. I felt myself come undone around him as he rubbed my clit between us. I felt his thrusts speed up and then slow to a stop.
The rest of the night I felt his seed in my panties, dripping into the fabric from my cunt.
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visionsofmagic · 6 months
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day 10: bruce wayne [car sex]
࿓ synopsis • bats fucks you in his batmobile to teach you a lesson after you disobey his order.
―❦ nsfw, autonomous driving, one has clothes on one hasn’t, suited!bats, batmobile, markings, car riding, possessiveness, jeaolusy, pet names, swearing, master kink, rude!bats, identity dilemma, inner toughts, spanking, begging, brat taming, clothes full on/off, kissing, ‘is all I guess. • 1.9k • thought comic bats while writing but you can imagine this with any version of batman as you like of course. enjoy the beginning of the second week of kinktober event, hope you will like this week too! [kinktober m.]
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“bats – please –“ as the gotham’s city’s night lights pass behind the black windows of the batmobile you’re in, your own voice gets silent by the loud sound of the road, yet, they reach to his ears that are covered with his black batman mask. “it’s too much –“ 
the man under you stays still even when his actions don’t stop – fingering your clit, he seems like he doesn’t care about how you’re sitting on his lap, soaking onto his black bat suit, getting wetter each passing time – having no dress on you makes the situation more sinful, especially when he has his own armored suit on, even the mask is still covering his face and ears – his bat ears is a source of balance for you to hold onto while taking his fingers as if it’s the first time he does this.
you have no idea how this man makes you feel stranger to being fucked by him whenever he has you like this – weak yet so powerful because of the whole situation.
it should’ve been a peaceful night, a simple mission – yet, it turned into something more, and you were the one to blame the moment you began to flirt with one of the guests to distract him. you were doing what he told you to from the other line of the call, giving instructions one by one with the help of the device on your ear. it was going all right until the man got interested in you, buying you drinks, joking around, and asking if you would like to follow him to do upstairs. 
you didn’t yet you had to act close to the man to get rid of him because bats told you to leave his side immediately. your mistake was taking that decision; putting one of your hands on the man’s shoulder, raising on your feet, and whispering something into his ear before leaving. apparently, this made bruce go mad – causing him to give you a lesson that you had to learn right away.
the moment you entered the batmobile, he took you onto his lap, taking all your clothes from one to another, looking darker than ever – hands fast, lips kissing yours so passionately that you believe your lips begin to bleed, the suit remains on as he begins to finger you – he just opens the zipper of his armored pants, leaving his hardened cock visible to your eyes.
wanting to touch him, your hand goes to his cock, yet, it is stopped in mid-air. he doesn’t waste any more seconds, slapping your clit, he adds, “you had to earn it. you will not get it until you beg for it.”
now here you are; already cum for one time, its hints still on your thighs and his pants, however, he doesn’t stop – you know he waits for you to beg – you try not to beg, stubborn, believing you did nothing wrong, but, it’s too much – he knows every point to make you beg – the vigilante know your own body more than you do.
when he hits your g-spot with only his gloved fingers, again and again, you cry out loud, “bruuuce – aggh – please -!” the words go out of your parted lips on their own as your hands grip his bat ears strongly, bouncing on his fingers when he doesn’t move them. the knowledge of making a mess out of you doesn’t reach into your brain, so, you continue fucking his fingers – his dark-colored eyes look up, a smirk position on his attractive masked face, mocking you. “please! I need youu – aggh!”
“pathetic,” he remarks, “bouncing on my fingers as if they’re my dick,” a chuckle breaks the lewd sounds – the outworld out of the batmobile is long forgotten. “want it so much? want me to bend you over, fuck you in this car?”
without thinking, you nod rapidly, eyes half-closed, your second cum drips onto his fingers, high hits the body, feeling a bit exhausted yet ready to take his thick cock now. 
your mind can’t comprehend what he’s doing but in a moment you find him lowering his seat, opening enough gap between your bodies and the batmobile’s front. 
afraid of falling into the surface, you try to hold his shoulders – still can’t believe you fucked yourself on his fingers and cum onto them when he talked dirty. the power – the effect he has on you is incredible! the mind is so dizzy because of him that you realize what he has done after a moment, your widening eyes look at the front mirrors of the car, seeing the road in front of you – the scene changes faster than you think – you swear the car moves like a lightning. 
the reality hits your face similar to the feeling of cold water washing your body over on a hot day. however, you can’t focus on it when bruce’s gloved and wet hands position on your waist, highering your ass up, pulling your body closer to his face.
when you hold onto the wheel to stay still, excitement and shock blurring the last cramps of your mind, fear of going in an extremely fast batmobile makes your blood boil – yet the trust you have for bruce is there, strongly holding you. his low voice reaches your ears after a while, and his hot breaths wash your pussy and ass holes that clench around nothing, making you jump in pure pleasure. “you disappointed me,” he says, “you disobeyed a direct order from me. that man meant nothin’ to me but disobeying – oh – what a bad choice y/n.”
you couldn’t wait any longer, knowing his one step away from licking you, lust takes control of you, and you begin to say how sorry you’re – how you didn’t mean to – both you and bruce know you did mean to, to get his attention, to get this side of him, because you’re a brat of him who he will tame.
“keep your begs for forgiveness for later. you have to prove to me that you’re capable of obeying me, you pretty brat.”
“anything, I will do anything for you bru -!” a slap to the ass, a slap to the pussy – scream escapes from your lips. “bats! just give me an order, will do it – just please – please fuck me already!”
“in that case,” he says, not licking you, making you pout in disappointment but when he lowers down your body, his cock’s tip meets with your aching pussy’s folds, he clicks a button, the engine slows down a little bit, the wheel of the car gets closer to you. “hold the wheel.”
you try to understand what’s going on, “what are you doin – aggh!”
his left-hand grips your neck, holding it tightly, closing the gap between your face and his, he points to the wheel that stands right in front of you. “hold the fucking wheel if you want to be fucked, y/n.”
swearing lowly, your shaking hand finds the wheel, holding it strongly, waiting for bruce to push a button – when he does, the engine starts moving faster than before. unlike the previous situation, this time, it’s you who drives the batmobile.
“bruce – how – “ your words are cut off by his deep voice.
“don’t take your eyes off the road. you will take us to the home without an accident. if you turn even a little bit, I will stop fucking you my love.” the difference in his words and voice make you go crazy, and that craziness doubles up when he lowers your body down enough to make him thrust his thick cock into your pussy, filling you up.
screaming with sudden pain and pleasure, your eyes roll over for a second before looking right at the road in front of you – gotham city still stays under the darkness of the night, the only voice that world excepts is the powerful sound of the batmobile riding on the endless looking road, the moans coming from you and swears from bats mixing with the flesh hitting the flesh can be heard by only you and bruce – the sin you commit cannot be known by another.
the focus you put on the road gets distracted whenever bruce shoves his dick into your wet clit. back of your thighs hitting his clothed thighs sends pain through your body, leaving red marks on your flesh – the balls that meet with your ass cheeks increase the sensitivity you have, making you cry as you clean them rapidly to see the road.
his name comes out of you over and over again, the brain is too occupied to drive, the mind is too crazy to function, and the body is too full of him, the man who wants to devour you, and doing it right now – using your body as he pleases, not moving his hips greatly, instead, he makes use of your body by lifting it up, then, pulling it down until his dick fills your walls deeper, harder and rougher.
“fucking brat,” he says, a poison that his voice holds captures you – you feel so pathetic as if you’re his fucktoy now. then why do you feel so high like the most powerful drug in the whole world gets into your veins with the maximum level, you ask yourself, then the answer travels to your mind after he adds, “can’t obey her master? what a pretty yet mindless girl you are, don’t you think?” oh, right, he’s the most powerful drug on the whole world, and now, you’re at his mercy.
“u-huh – agghh – oh myy – bats! please, please, please –“ you have no idea what you’re pleasing for, but he knows – he chuckles lowly, having fuck great entertainment thanks to you that you feel a kind of pride in an instant.
“u-huh?” he mocks, fucks you still, close to the edge, just waiting for the right moment. “too cockdumbed to even understand what I’m saying. but you do good my good girl, keep going, we’re close to the cave.”
the new information makes you happy, smiling widely, and looking outside clearly, seeing the cave’s entering. with the relief, you begin to drive the car more carefully than before, hands getting stronger, losing yourself in the pleasure of being fucked by bruce in his damn batmobile.
finally reaching your destination, you slow down the engine, the cave’s front door opens, and pushing a button, bruce hugs you from behind, making you sit down on his cock with an instantaneous speed, earning the loudest moan out of you.
the mouth standing beside your ear says, “cum. cum on my cock.” and you who doesn’t know she’s waiting for him to allow her – to order, do what he tells, cum on his cock as his hot semen hit the deep inside of you in sync.
kissing your shoulder, he holds your shaking body because of both the coldness of the cave you have entered and the opposite sense of warmness that bruce gives – the smell of highness on the air, chests getting up and down, breaths rapid and low, lust ends – its place gets completed with the affection of love.
“did so good,” the car’s door opens, bruce takes your body in bridal style after wrapping it with his cape. his gentle lips put kisses on your face as he walks into the bathroom of his room, watching your soft features, eyes closed to sleep. he smiles fondly, proud of you. “let me take care of my pretty girl now.”
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❦ tagging: @lilvampirina & @snowprincesa1 & @dookiemeshibear *lots of kisses!*
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cottontears · 1 year
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Bruce Wayne and cunnilingis or somnophilia pls
set the night on fire
ೃ⁀➷ bruce wayne x afab reader
ೃ⁀➷ word count 358
ೃ⁀➷ a/n: this is just a short drabble! hope you enjoy!
ೃ⁀➷ warnings: somno, cunnilingus
ೃ⁀➷ please reblog & leave a comment with your thoughts 🫶🏻
╰➤ linktree ╰➤ pinterest╰➤ requests open check rules
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there was nothing as delicious as the taste of your pussy.
it was still dark when bruce roused from his sleep. he stared at the outline of your curves. your breaths were deep, chest rising and falling softly. the bed sheets curled around your naked frame.
bruce leaned his face into your neck, taking a deep breath, relishing your scent.
he did not want to wake you up, but he just wanted a taste, just a small taste. he knelt at the foot of the huge bed, in front of your feet.
the fingers of each hand curled around each of your ankles, slowly opening your legs.
bruce crawled into your space, leaning his head on your inner thighs, his eyes honed into your glistening pussy. he swiped a finger through your cunt, sliding your folds open. collecting your juices. he brought the finger to his lips and closed his eyes in bliss.
yea, just one taste was not going to be enough.
he placed his head closer, his nose breathing in your delicious fragrance. it was instinctual, he licked a stripe up your cunt, his destination? your clit. he scraped it softly with his top teeth. your hips spasmed and you murmured something in your sleep but did not wake. he swirled his tongue on your throbbing clit, but he wanted more. he went lower, sliding his tongue inside you, lapping at every little drop of you he could reach. he felt your gummy walls clench around him, a strangled moan left your lips before his mouth was flooded with your cum, he licked and sucked every last drop, and did not stop. your hips jerking with sensitivity.
he let out a guttural moan when he felt your nails scrape his skull, he looked up at you through his lashes,
your back was arched in pleasure, thighs clenched around his head.
“bruce~” you whined.
“you taste so good baby, i can’t help myself, i don’t have the resolve to wait until you wake.”
“well, i’m up mr. wayne, how about you go back to what you were doing huh? bruce?”
he was more than happy to oblige
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soulofapatrick · 5 months
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I Like Your Mind - Edward Cullen x female reader
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Summary: As soon as you meet Edward, you're both drawn to each other with an intensity you never expected
Words: 2.2k
Warnings: None
Y/N’s POV
I step into the Cullen house, my heart racing in my chest, and my mind filled with a mixture of fear and fascination. Bella has brought me here, introducing me to the family of her new boyfriend - Jasper Hale - and I can hardly believe where I find myself. I know their secret, the one they’ve been hiding from the world, the fact they’re vampires. And I know Edward can read minds which makes the whole situation even more daunting. But, as Bella races off to find Jasper, I’m left alone I the living room, taking in the stunning surroundings. 
The Cullens’ house is unlike any place I’ve ever seen. The air is heavy with an unspoken history, and everything within is both timeless and modern. A grand piano rests against one wall, a dark mahogany masterpiece, and the soft notes of a melody linger in the air, a testament to the musical talents of the family. On the opposite wall, a massive bookshelf houses an impressive collection of novels and ancient texts. Their spines form a spectrum of human knowledge, artfully arranged. 
My gaze drifts to the floor-to-ceiling windows that frame the room, offering a breathtaking view of the dense, ancient forest that surrounds the house. The trees stand tall and proud, their branches intertwined like guardians, protecting the Cullens from prying eyes. The afternoon sun filters through the leaves, casting dappled shadows that dance across the polished wooden floors. 
As my eyes linger on the tranquil forest, my imagination takes flight. I envision myself running through the woods, feeling the cool, damp earth beneath my feet. The leaves would crunch softly with each step, and the intoxicating scent of pine and damp earth would fill my senses. My heart would race, and a rush of adrenaline would surge through me as I lose myself in the untamed beauty of the wilderness. But, what captivates me the most is the idea of running through the forest in the rain. The thought of raindrops falling like liquid diamonds from the heavens, pelting the leaves and creating a gentle, rhythmic melody, sends a shiver of delight down my spine. In my daydream, I am drenched, my clothes clinging to my skin as I twirl and leap through the woods, liberated and carefree.
The rain washes away all my worries and fears, leaving only the exhilaration of the moment. It's as if the world, with all its complexities and complications, has melted away, leaving only the simplicity and purity of the rain-soaked forest. It's a feeling of utter peace, a sense of being one with nature and the world, a sensation I've longed to experience again. 
Lost in the serenity of my daydream, I sense a subtle presence to my right. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, and a strange but not unwelcome shiver runs down my spine. Slowly, I turn my head to see one of the Cullen brothers standing there, a striking figure with sharp, chiseled features. He exudes an air of quiet strength and confidence, and I can't help but admire his physical appearance.
As I take in his feature, I quickly realise that this isn’t Jasper, as Bella would undoubtedly be with him if he were here. Besides, Jasper is known for his blond hair, which contrasts with the dark brunette locks of the Cullen brother beside me. His eyes, however, remain a shimmering gold, and their intensity is captivating. 
Going over Bella’s description, I recall that she mentioned Emmett to be big and buff. Emmett is tall and muscular. He has dark curly hair and dimpled cheeks. Despite his intimidating appearance, he is light-hearted and carefree. This man in front of me is almost quite the opposite with perfect and angular high cheekbones, strong jawline, a straight nose, and full lips causing my heart to quicken with a sudden realisation. In a hushed voice, I tentatively ask, “Edward?” 
The name hangs in the air between us, my uncertainty evident in the way I speak his name. The Cullen brother gives a small nod, his eyes holding a hint of amusement and there’s a small smile on his pretty lips as he says, “Hello.” His voice is a velvet whisper that sends a shiver down my spine. My cheeks heat up in response, and I can’t help but feel flustered by his presence. Turning my face away from him, I gaze out at the enchanting forest, using the breathtaking view to regain my composure. 
But just as I start to calm my racing heart, I sense his movement. Edward is moving closer, somewhat hesitantly as if he’s scared to do so but he moves so close I can feel the coolness of his chest against my back. The physical proximity is both thrilling and nerve-wracking, and I can’t help but wonder what his intention are as I continue to look out at the tranquil forest. 
The peaceful silence in the room is broken by Edward’s soft voice, barely above a whisper, “I like your mind,” he admits, his words sending a rush of warmth through me, “It’s quiet.” 
His words wash over me like a gentle caress, and I can’t deny the intrigue of his interest in my mind. It’s a compliment I could never have anticipated, coming from a vampire who can hear the thoughts of others. The intimacy of this moment is palpable, and I can sense the internal struggle within him, as if he’s torn between his desire to touch me and the realisation that we’ve only just met. 
Despite my rational thoughts screaming at me to maintain my distance, I surrender to the magnetic pull of Edward Cullen. My back leans into his cool, sculpted chest, and the sensation of his icy hands on my hips sends a shiver of anticipation coursing through me. It's as if the enchantment of the Cullen house, the breathtaking view of the forest, and Edward's irresistible presence have combined to create a spell that I am unable, and unwilling, to break. 
Closing my eyes, I allow myself to become completely enveloped in everything Edward. I’m hyperaware of how he feels behind me, the firmness of his chest pressed against my back, the subtle rise and fall of his breath against my neck as if it’s a force of habit for him despite vampires lack of need to breathe. His scent, a delicate blend of lilac, honey and sunshine, fills my senses and intoxicates me, wrapping me in a warm, inviting embrace. 
The moment feels intensely romantic, the air electric with the unspoken connection between us. I know that Edward can read my thoughts and perceive my view of him, and in this vulnerable instant, I choose not to resist. I grant him access tot he unfiltered depths of my desire, allowing him to see and feel the passion that simmers beneath the surface. 
The tension in the room crackles, the rain outside intensifying as if mirroring the fervour building within us. It's a clandestine dance of two souls drawn together by an unexplainable force. In this silent, electrifying embrace, I become an open book for Edward, my thoughts and desires laid bare, and I can only wonder what he'll make of the desires that race through my mind like wildfire
With a slow and deliberate movement, Edward turns me to face him, his eyes open and unguarded. They flicker with a hint of vulnerability, as if he, too, is uncertain of the depth of this connection. His gaze drops to my lips, and I can feel the warmth of his breath on my skin as he hovers close. His fingers twirl my hair around them, an intimate gesture that feels like an attempt to memorise every part of me that he can reach. The air crackles with anticipation as I hold my breath, my heart pounding in my chest, The world outside seems to fade away, leaving only the two of us in this electrifying moment. 
Edward’s gaze remains locked on mine, a silent promise of the depths of emotions and desire that lie beneath the surface. In the hushed room, our shared anticipation and vulnerability create an electric tension that’s impossible to ignore. His lips are tantalisingly close, and I can feel the coolness of his breath as he hovers near. It’s as if he’s about to kiss me, his intentions clear in the smouldering depths of his golden eyes. But he hesitates, his voice barely a whisper as he mumbles something about not being able to stop once he starts, a confession laden with both longing and restraint. 
Unable to resist any longer, I tangle my fingers in his tousled hair, an intimate gesture that communicates my desire and intent. With a gentle, yet urgent push, I guide his face the rest of the way down until his lips finally meet mine. 
As our lips meet in a hesitant and guarded kiss, a complex swirl of emotions and desires floods the space between us. Edward, despite his initial restraint, can’t help but respond to the fiery connection we share. His lips, cool and soft, brush against mine with a caution born of a lifetime of self-control. The kiss begins with a tentative exploration, as if he’s testing the boundaries of this newfound intimacy. 
The initial hesitancy slowly gives way to a growing intensity, and I can sense his need for more. His grip on me tightens ever so slightly, fingers digging into my hips, a delicate balance between desire and restraint. His response is careful, as if he’s constantly aware of his vampire strength, wary of causing any harm to me. The kiss deepens, his passion building, and the chemistry between us becomes an irresistible force that pushes us further into uncharted territory. 
With a slow and deliberate movement, he begins to walk me backwards, his lips never leaving mine, until my back makes contact with the cool glass of the windows, drawing a gasp from me. It has Edward smiling softly, golden eyes a little glazed as if in a trance of disbelief this is happening before his cold nose bumps my neck, making my pulse jump. I should be scared by how close he is to my jugular but I don’t feel any fear or anything, especially when Edward places a soft kiss on my jugular, a silent acknowledgement of the temptation that throbs beneath my skin. His lips are cold, but their touch is gentle, sending shivers of desire coursing through me. 
My hands tangle back in his soft locks, guiding his lips back to mine, their coldness a stark contrast to the burning passion that courses between us. In that moment, I am both vulnerable and empowered, willingly allowing myself to be drawn further into this intoxicating dance of desire. 
Each kiss makes me feel more alive, more connected to a world I never knew existed. The world outside may be drenched in rain, but in this electrifying embrace, a different kind of storm rages, a tempest of emotions and desires that we can’t control. His lips, cool and velvety soft, meet mine over and over again in a symphony of fire and ice, a fusion of elements that ignite a burning desire deep within me. 
His body presses against mine, a solid and unyielding presence that leaves me feeling both vulnerable and empowered. The contrast between his cool skin and the heat of my own sets my senses ablaze. As we deepen our connection, the room seems to spin around us, and I lose myself in the feeling of everything Edward. 
The room is charged with our passion, and I can feel it deep in my core. Every kiss is like a secret, a stolen moment in a world that is entirely our own. We lose track of time and space, our lips locked in an intimate dance that only intensifies the fever that has drawn us together in the first place. 
But then, like a bolt of lightning in our own private storm, I hear Bella’s joyful squeal. Edward pulling away from me, and I let my face fall into the warmth of his chest, overwhelmed by embarrassment. As I hide from the world, I can feel the soft rumble of amused laughter in Edward’s chest, a sound that both soothes and electrifies me in equal measure. 
“Fuck yeah!” Bells shrieks with joy and I flip her off over Edward’s shoulder as he wraps his arms around me, stifling a laugh as he can probably hear all of my silent insults and embarrassed thoughts thrown Bella’s way. 
“It’s okay.” He murmurs, fingers carding through my hair and I just hum, letting my eyes flutter closed in contentment. I don’t care how quick this is happening, all I know is I need Edward and no-one else so I’ll live with the embarrassment if it means I can have Edward. 
“You have me.” 
                           ┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ┈
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Twilight Masterlist
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cherrycolacigs · 6 months
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𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞
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18 and up! (Its smut 💀)
Summary: You have been dating Cedric for a while now and your ready to give him your virginity <3
( Female reader x Cedric Diggory)
Also this is my first time writing smut be nice to me pls
WARNINGS OMFG!!:
Ermm innocence kink, praise kink, losing vcard, SO many pet names, size kink, unprotected seggs, use of Y/N, this fic is LOOOONG. Grammar errors, just a few mistakes in general.😯😯💀💀 You have been warned.
It was late into the night, the halls of Hogwarts were empty and quiet. The moon shined through the windows, painting a soft light that bounced off the walls of the hallways.
You and Cedric walked hand in hand, you had just left a fun-filled night of dancing, running about, and being dumb teenagers with your friends. You made sure to be quiet because it was many hours after curfew and the last thing you wanted was to be caught by Filch. You could hear the soft snores and murmurs coming from the paintings on the walls as you silently made your way to the Hufflepuff dorms.
Eventually, you reached his dorm and Cedric opened the door, letting you go in first like a true gentleman. A bright and sweet smile was on his face as he looked down at you walking into his dorm and you couldn't help but smile back at how cute this six foot one Golden Retriever boy was.
You were alone, a result of the privilege of him being prefect and getting his own dorm.You kicked off your shoes before plopping down onto his large bed and he followed after you,closing the door behind him with a soft clink and sitting down beside you. He looked down over at you and finally spoke. 
“Come here baby,” Cedric said softly, his comforting and strong arms opening in a welcoming manner.
You happily complied and crawled over to him, sitting yourself in his lap and he immediately wrapped his arms around your smaller body, pulling you close to him. He burrowed his face into your hair, inhaling the familar and sweet scent of his girlfriend. 
“My love,” he muttered into your hair, kissing the top of your head.
You were being held tightly against his chest, your senses being flooded with the feeling of his warm and strong body and the faint smell of his aftershave and his laundry detergent in your nose. You relished in the feeling of your Cedric.
This was a weekly routine. At the end of the week your classes were over, no homework, no school the next day, Cedric would take you to his dorm to spend some time together to make up for the busy week you had both had. You would fall asleep in his arms every Friday night. It was comfortable, it was always the same. You rested your chin on his chest, looking up at him with a smile. “Kiss me,” you requested.
His eyes peered down lovingly into your own and he couldnt help but chuckle.
“Alright,” he agreed, leaning down slightly to capture you lips with his, pressing a kiss onto your mouth. He closed his eyes and cupped your face with both of his large hands. You felt his soft lips move against yours slowly, his tongue sliding across you lower lip, asking for entrance and you allowed, opening your lips and letting his tongue touch yours. He brushed his thumb over your cheekbone as you softly and slowly made out together. It wasn’t the first time, you had kissed like this before but Cedric had always made sure that it stopped before things got out of hand.  
It started off sweet and innocent, but before either or you could stop it, it quickly transformed into a heated kiss, fueled by undertones of hunger. A soft moan escaped your lips and Cedric’s eyes shot open, blinking down at you in surprise as he pulled away from the kiss. In your entire relationship he had never heard you moan before because you had never done anything sexual before together. Cedrics breath grew a bit heavy, the little moan of yours making him feel himself become flustered. 
“S-sorry,” you mumbled, your face turning red. You didnt mean for that to slip out and you felt as if you had ruined the moment, causing him to break the kiss. He stroked your cheek and shook his head a bit.
“No angel its ok, I just wasn’t expecting it,” he said quietly, hoping that you didn’t see the way he was behaving. He swallowed, his cheeks pinkening and his heart racing in his chest. He tried to ignore that you had gotten him turned on but you knew your boyfriend and you knew how he was feeling.
“Ced,” you looked up at him knowingly, silently telling him that you knew.
“Yes darling?” he asked, tucking some hair behind your ear.
“I think tonights the night. Im ready,” you told him, and he knew what you meant. You had actually been planning for this for a while, but you wanted to choose the perfect moment, and the perfect moment had fallen perfectly into your lap. His brow furrowed slightly in concern.
“Y/N are you sure?” he whispered, looking intently into your eyes to make sure you knew what you were getting yourself into. He was hesitant to finally sleep with you though he wanted it more than anything in the world and had been thinking about it for months in all honesty.Cedric breathed out slowly, his mind racing with thoughts of taking your virtue without mercy. He wanted it to be special and mean something though, one of the reasons he had waited so long. This was a big thing and he didnt want to ruin it so he was hesitant to finally give into his desires. He would be the first person to take your virginity and he wanted to do it right.
“Im sure,” you said certainly, taking his hand in yours. “Do you not want to?” you asked quietly, being confused at how he was hanging back.
“No of course I want to. I want this more than anything but I just dont want you to feel like im taking advantage of you or taking things too fast,” he expressed as he rubbed circles on your hand with his thumb.
“Cedric you aren't taking advantage of me and the fact you are so hesitant and you've waited so long proves that we aren't going to fast,” you reassured.
Cedric inhaled slowly and looked at you, searching your face for any hint of doubt or a change of mind, but you were sure in your answer and you were sure that it was him you wanted to give you your first time. A flood of desire clouded his mind at your consent and he nodded.
“Okay,” he finally replied. 
He slowly and carefully moved his hands to unbutton your shirt, his long fingers working his way down your body as each button being undone revealed more and more until he slid off your top and let it fall to his floor. His heart was absolutely racing at seeing you in your bra for the first time, and his breath hitched in anticipation and need for you. 
“Beautiful,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear. You shivered and could feel your breath becoming quick and heavy at his touch. This was your first time ever being touched by him like this and it was so overwhelming and foreign but it felt incredible. With shaking hands he pulled your skirt down your thighs until it dropped down your legs and off your body. 
 Cedric then carefully reached behind you and unclipped your bra. His mind was racing as he undressed you, hardly being able to believe that it was actually happening. Your bra was stripped off of you and discared. His eyes were glued to your soft breasts that were now exposed to him.
 He could feel himself growing hard under his pants and he was desperate to finally take you.. He took your chin in his forefinger and thumb, pulling your lips against his as his tongue invaded your mouth. His tongue swirled around yours, your tongues fighting for dominance. He had never kissed you like this before, this was sensual, hungry, slow and it felt amazing. He pulled back from the kiss to be able to admire your body again. It was the first time ever seeing you completely exposed to him and his entire mind was going into a frenzy. 
 He reached out to touch you, placing his hands on your breasts and feeling the soft flesh in his palms. His thumbs traced circles around your nipples causing a  soft whine of pleasure to leave your lips and your whole body prickled at the sensation. His pupils were blown wide and his lips were parted, breathing heavily as his chest heaved, the sight of your body driving him mad. His hands glided down your sides, his fingers tracing the curves of your hips and thighs slowly and deliberately, wanting to savor the moment and delight in your body and memorize ever inch of you. His cock twitched in his pants at the sight, it was the most breathtaking thing he had ever seen, and all the time waiting for it was worth everything.
“You are unbelievably gorgeous Y/N, I can hardly stand it,” he whispered gently, kissing your cheek. You sighed softly and looked up at him. He dipped his head down, sticking his head into the crook of your neck and gently nibbling and kissing the sensitve skin of your neck. You gasped and closed your eyes.
“Cedric,” you whined, gripping the edge of his bed as his lips made his way down your body, sucking and kissing your flesh, leaving pinkish purple marks behind. He hummed against your neck in reply, trailling his lips down your collarbone and down to your breasts. 
Cedric’s mouth never left your body as he fumbled to unbutton his own shirt, his fingers trying to rid himself of the clothing between you both. He was losing his self control. Cedric cursed himself silently, knowing he needed to take things slow and make this special moment last as long as possible for you both but he was being drowned by floods of lust and need.
 Once his shirt was off he unzipped his pants, trying to take his time, trying to make you both want it even more. He licked and sucked on your neck once more as you heard the sound of his belt being unbuckled and his pants falling to the floor, leaving him in his black boxers.Your soft moans and sighs kept slipping from your lips as he left his marks on you, claiming you as his for the first time.
Cedric kicked his pants to the side and you wrapped your legs around his waist, and he slowly rocked his hips against you, making you feel his clothed hardness in between your legs.He shuddered, the tip of his shaft rubbing against your soaked panties and you whimpered in response, your clit throbbing at the feeling. His hips snapped forward again, seeking friction before his lips finally left your neck and he looked down at you, stroking your hair gently. 
“I’ve waited so long for this,” Cedric whispered. “My pretty girl,” he purred, running his finger down your jaw.
“So have I,” you managed to get out, looking up at him with needy doe eyes. He looked back down at you, biting his lower lip. Resisting wasn't possible anymore. 
“Are you ready little one?” he asked, running his nose along your temple and caressing your cheek. You nodded.
“I’ve never been more ready for anything in my life,” you replied, gazing into his eyes.
Cedric  hooked his fingers around your panties and pulled them down until they pooled around your ankles. You shook them off and he licked his lips, his eyes darkening with lust at the sight of your center of pleasure. 
“God, so wet for me already,” he muttered, carefully grabbing you and laying your small body down on his bed. You watched as he stood next to the bed and stripped off his boxers, and your breath caught in your throat. His hard and twitching cock sprung out, precum leaking from his tip.
 His body was perfect, lean and muscular, strong and sharp features etched onto his body that looked straight out of a painting. It was your turn to admire and take in the beauty. Your gaze wandered over his arms, his chest and down his waist, hips and strong legs; every detail and body part burning into your mind.
A blush spread on Cedric’s face when he felt your eyes on him and he then moved onto the bed, getting on top of you. He then intertwined his fingers with yours and raised them above your head, pinning your arms down. He kissed you, his tongue sliding into your mouth and his warm breath fanning on your skin.
“Are you ready love?”
His cock twitched again in anticipation of finally being inside of you.
You nodded, looking up at Cedric who was face to face above you and he positioned his hips so they were perfectly aligned with yours. His tip edged your entrance, making you squirm and causing Cedric to inhale a sharp breath.He began to work his way into you inch by inch before steadily pushing in until you were filled with his entire length.
Cedric groaned deeply in pleasure, the feeling of your warmth stretching around him sending waves of euphoria through his veins.
You whimpered, squeezing his hands tightly.
“Cedric.”
“I’m here. I’m here, it’s ok,” He whispered as he rested his forehead against yours gently. It hurt a bit for you and he knew it, so for your sake he let you adjust, not moving even slightly until you were ready.
“I know it hurts baby I’m sorry.”
 His tender murmurs left his tongue as his thumb rubbed over the back of your hand comfortingly, making your heart swell with how soft he was being with you.
Thankfully after a moment, the pain and discomfort was washed away and was replaced with pleasure, causing you to gasp quietly. Cedric understood what this meant and he gave you a small nod so you would be prepared.
“I’ll be gentle.”
He finally began moving, his hips moving in slow, deliberate thrusts as his eyes locked onto yours. It felt so intimate, so raw, you had never been so exposed, emotionally and physically in your life. You moaned, your lips agape and your eyebrows knit together as he moved in and out of you with deep and steady strokes that made you entire body feel weak.
“My good little girl, taking me so well.” Cedric praised, his voice low and husky as his cock pumped inside of you rhythmically. You could only whimper in reply, your mind foggy with pleasure and overwhelming emotions.
He leaned his face down into your neck for a moment, pressing kisses along your flesh and nipping at your shoulder.
.“You feel so damn good sweetheart,” he grunted into your neck, his breathy moans filling the air as he grazed your earlobe with his lips.
“Only f-for you,” you gasped out, your hips starting to buck in time with his, signaling for him to go faster. 
He groaned and he obliged, thrusting faster but still not being rough, making you cry out and beg for him to keep going.
He raised his face again, your noses inches apart so he could see your beautiful face, all flushed and contorted in pleasure, looking so innocent and adorable as he fucked you like you deserved. 
 The unbreaking eye contact, the way your bodies fit together, the sounds of his groans and ragged breaths, the overwhelming pleasure he was giving you was like nothing else you had ever experienced. 
Every word he muttered in that raspy tone, every kiss, his breath hitting your skin, every thrust getting faster with each moment was sending you over the edge, making you a moaning and panting mess underneath him.
He closed his eyes ,dark eyebrows furrowed with concentration and pleasure as his rosy and full lips descended upon yours, taking you into a breathless kiss. Your tongues intertwined in a slow and sensual dance and your hot breath mingled, the filthy sounds coming from you both made Cedric’s head spin and he could feel himself getting closer and closer to his orgasm.
His breath hitched and he pulled away from the kiss, looking down at you once more though your eyes stayed closed, your mouth open and your chest rising and falling heavily as you gasped for breath.
“Look at me.” Cedric breathed. He wanted to see your eyes when you came undone together when you did the most intimate thing you had ever done in your relationship.
 Your eyes fluttered open, your mutual gaze was deep. His eyes were intense, memorizing every second, every feeling, every sound in this moment.
He was hitting the right spot in you perfectly over and over again, causing a knot forming in your lower stomach rapidly as you were at your breaking point. 
Your forehead touched and Cedrics warm breath feathered across your skin.
 “Your so close, baby. Come on. Give it to me. Let go of everything and give it to me. Cum for me angel,” He urged, his voice barely above a whisper.
 The knot in your stomach tightened and snapped, your walls spasming and clenching around him as you released all over his cock that was buried deep inside of you. You were seeing stars and your body was shaking from the intensity. 
 You cried his name out like a prayer, fueling his own orgasm. He had waited so long, but it was worth it. Seeing you like this, giving yourself to him completely, was pure ecstasy.
 A long and ragged groan fell from his lips and his muscles tensed.
“Y/N.”
His hips stuttered and he joined you in climax, his cum shooting deep inside of you and dripping down your thighs. His length twitched, more of his warm seed spilling from his tip within you, emptying himself completely. His movements ceased to slow rolls of his hips before eventually stopping.
Soft pants and deep breaths invaded the space around you, not a word being spoken, just savoring the intimate connection between you both. You stayed like that for only a few seconds, catching your breath as you both came down from your highs. He then carefully pulled out, muttering a wandless spell to clean the mess you both made off of his sheets and your bodies. 
He held your weak and shaking body to his chest, his eyes softening as he looked down at your exhausted face and you stared back up at him, taking in his red cheeks and heavy and pretty eyelashes.
“Are you alright?” he whispered tenderly as he brushed away a strand of hair from your cheek.
“Yeah,” you mumbled, feeling his strong arms around your small body.
 “My sweet girl,” He murmured and kissed your brow, his eyes drinking in every detail of your face. “Did so good.”
“I love you,” you sighed, burying your face in his warm neck and snuggling close to him.
Cedric smiled softly and stroked your cheek.
“I love you too, y/n. My angel, my everything.” 
He placed a kiss on the top of your head and pulled you closer. He had moved so that he was lying on his back in his bed and your limp frame was cradled in his arms. He just wanted to hold you close and keep you safe
“You are my everything. I'll always take care of you.”
You couldn’t even respond, you were worn out and your mind was hazy. You felt so loved and protected and your eyelids grew heavy, his soothing touch and sweet nothings in your ear making you feel sleepy.
Cedric chuckled softly, his eyes gleaming with love and adoration as he looked down at you, his heart overflowing with emotion
“Sleep now, my love, you’ve earned it,” he whispered as he pulled the covers over you.
The room fell silent, the only sound being your steady breathing and the occasional rustling of the sheets as you adjusted yourselves. You played with his fingers until you fell asleep, a soft whine leaving your lips as you fell into the deepest sleep of your life next to your boyfriend.
Cedric's fingers traced gentle circles around your back, his thumb brushing against your skin as he held you close, watching your beautiful face as you slept. Your messy hair was spread out on his pillows and your soft body was pressed against his comfortably. 
His hand never left your back as he listened to your breathing and quiet murmurs. He stayed awake for a few minutes longer, lost in thought, before he started drifting off into a peaceful sleep himself. His body was relaxed and content, falling asleep next to the woman he loved.
Your Pov:
The next morning my eyes fluttered open and was met with Cedric’s face right next to mine. I was wrapped up in his arms, his white sheets surrounding us both. His body was warm and firm as I was held against him.
The sun was rising, streams of golden light filtering through his window and onto him, the sun illuminating his face and making his chestnut-colored hair glow.
He looked so handsome. I mean, he was always handsome, but this… this was a sight to behold. It was like a painting, his white sheets covering half of his body, the sun highlighting his features in the most poetic way, making him look angelic. I carefully reached up to place my hand on his cheek, my thumb brushing gently over his cheekbone and then tracing the shape of his lips. He looked like those statues of David and Greek gods you'd see in museums. I admired his thick and dark eyebrows, the smoothness of his pale-white skin, his full lips, and his long eyelashes. A true sculpture of beauty.
Such a beautiful boy. I thought silently to myself.
My gaze finally drifted over to our clothes scattered on the floor. I blushed once I remembered the events of the previous night. He had taken my virginity. The memory of his breathy moans in my ear and the feeling of his lips trailing down my neck suddenly came flooding back. I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts of our passionate encounter.
My mind wandered to the possibility of anyone finding out. Having sex at Hogwarts was most definitely against the rules, and that would surely strip Cedric of his role as Prefect. I didn’t want his life to be badly impacted because of me. What should I tell Ron, Hermione, and Harry? If I should tell them at all? My head was swarming with hundreds of thoughts. It didn’t feel real.
I glanced back at him, he was still sleeping, his bare chest rising up and then falling back down with every steady breath. My fingers skimmed along his defined jawline and I sighed softly as I gazed at him, bathed in the golden morning light. I contemplated whether or not I should get up or stay in bed with him until he woke up. What do you do in a situation like this?
I looked around his dorm and looked down at myself, realizing I was indeed, still unclothed.
Shit.
The soft sound of a body stirring and the rustling of sheets pulled me out of my own thoughts and my eyes met with the grey-blue eyes of Cedric.
He smiled at me, his dimples appearing, and his eyes crinkling at the corners.
“Good morning my love,” he murmured, caressing my cheek tenderly before his hand slid up to run his fingers through my long and disheveled curls.
“Hey,” I replied quietly, a shy and soft smile playing on my lips.
“Did you sleep all right?” Cedric asked caringly, his body sitting up a bit in his bed and taking note of my appearance.
“I did,” I confirmed softly as I self-consciously pulled his sheet over my exposed chest. He noticed me do that but all he did was chuckle slightly to himself, being too polite to mention it. His hand dipped down to my neck, his thumb gingerly rubbing circles over the purple and pink marks on my flesh that he had created the night before. He then pulled me closer and kissed my cheek before resting his forehead against mine.
“You look so beautiful,” he whispered as he gazed deeply and lovingly into my eyes.
I looked down, breaking eye contact. “Thank you,” I mumbled. He raised an eyebrow and smiled again gently.
“Why so shy little one?” Cedric posed as he took my chin in his thumb and forefinger and tilted my head up to lock eyes with him again. I bit my lower lip slightly as my vision was filled with an ocean of green, blue, and grey, the colors mixing together in his irises.
“Just… I can't stop thinking about last night.”
His expression softened and he smiled warmly as he cupped my face with both of his large hands, his thumbs grazing over my cheekbones.
“There’s no need to be shy,” He assured in a quiet and gentle voice.
He was right. I knew he was. We had been dating for so long and at that point, I knew I should always feel comfortable with him. And I always had been, but this was different. We had done the most intimate thing any two people could ever do together hours before, and we were both naked in his bed at that very moment. I felt completely exposed, physically and emotionally.
“You were amazing.” Cedric’s lips lightly brushed against my ear as he spoke, his breath on my skin. “It was the most incredible moment of my entire life. You have no idea, Y/N. I died and went to heaven last night,” he whispered, his voice sending a shiver up my spine. He pulled away from my ear to look back at me again. My heart was pounding in my chest and I was blushing like an idiot.
“Really?” I asked breathlessly, beaming at his words.
He flashed me his signature Cedric Diggory grin and his lips pressed against mine tenderly.
“Really,” he affirmed, his eyes shining in adoration as the morning light shined down on us both from his window. I snaked my arms around his waist and pulled him into a hug. A wave of overwhelming love crashed over me and my worries (for the most part) vanished. Cedric smiled down at me and kissed the top of my head.
“I love you so much, my angel,” he muttered into my hair, inhaling my scent.
“I love you too Ced.”
A brief and comfortable silence hung between us as we embraced, bare chests pressed together and my face buried into his warm neck while his chin rested on my head. After a while, he moved away just to see my face again.
“Do you want to wear one of my shirts?” he suggested, hinting that we should get at least a bit clothed, though I could definitely tell that he didn't mind one bit at the state that we were in.
I nodded.
“Alright then.” Cedric threw the covers off of him and got off his bed, walking over to his dresser.
I looked away as his perfectly sculpted (and completely bare) body was revealed to me once more. All those years of playing Quidditch paid off because his figure was gorgeous, carved by Michelangelo himself.
What’s wrong with me? I saw him like this last night. Why can’t I see him naked again?
Once he had slid on a pair of boxers I glanced back at him a little bit, not as shy, but still a bit flustered. He quickly pulled a white tee shirt over his head and put on some plaid flannel pajama pants.
He swiped another tee shirt from his dresser and a pair of boxers. He then walked back over to me on his bed and handed them to me. My cheeks flushed a faint tinge of pink at the idea of not only wearing his shirt, but his boxers. I smiled at him and slipped them on briskly, trying to take the attention off the fact that I was nude.
“You look so cute in my clothes,” Cedric mused, a charming grin on his perfect lips as he stroked my hair and brushed some stray curls away from my face. “I don’t want you to have to wear the clothes that you wore before. They aren't very comfortable like these.”
“Thanks,” I chuckled softly as I sat up in his bed completely, wincing a bit at how sore my body was. It was to be expected after what we had done, especially since it was my first time. Cedric frowned slightly in worry and he massaged my shoulder.
“Are you alright my sweet girl?” He questioned. “Was I too rough?” Concern was etched on his features and laced in his tone.
I shook my head.
“I'm fine. You weren't too rough at all I swear,” I reassured.
The image of him taking me invaded my mind once more. He had definitely not been rough.
He looked at me as if he knew exactly what was going through my head but he made no comment. He was such a gentleman.
I looked up at him and didn’t know how to feel. We had waited so long to sleep together yet I felt a mix of giddiness, overwhelming love for the boy in front of me, and a twinge of shame. I wasn’t a virgin anymore. Was I dirty now? I pushed the idea out of my head. I was so thankful that it was Cedric who gave me that experience, I wouldn’t want it any other way, yet the thought still lingered in the very back of my consciousness.
“Is something wrong?” Cedric inquired with a tilt of his head as he sat back down next to me on his bed, his hand going to caress my head softly.
“Oh, no nothing’s wrong,” I promised as I looked at his floor where our clothes were strewn about. “I just don't know how to feel,” I said as I rested my chin on his shoulder. He gently grabbed my face to make me look at him.
“Do you regret it?” he asked seriously, looking deep into my eyes, searching for the answer.
I quickly shook my head.
“No, no, of course not, I don't regret it,” I replied slightly panicked at the thought that he would think I could ever regret what we shared. He looked a bit relieved at my answer and kissed me again. No matter how long we’ve been together, his kisses give me butterflies in my stomach every time without fail.
“I’m glad,” he murmured as he stroked my cheek with the back of his hand. I placed my hand over his and turned my face so my lips could meet his knuckles.
“I should probably get back to my common room before anyone notices that I’m gone,” I told him regretfully. I wanted nothing more than to stay with him in his bed for the entire day but I knew it wasn't possible. He sighed softly in disappointment but nodded, acknowledging that we were breaking multiple rules and couldn't get caught.
“I know.” He took his watch off of his nightstand and read the time. “6:05,” he informed me. “But I don’t want you to leave, especially since we’ve done something so special.” He rested his forehead on mine, our noses barely pressed together.
I agreed with him. It felt strange to do something so private and passionate together and then hours later have to get up and leave. This was a huge milestone in our relationship. We had wanted to wait, make it important, not just have lustful teenage sex.
“I don’t wanna leave either,” I whispered, placing both of my hands on his cheeks.
845 notes · View notes
waynewifey · 7 months
Note
Well, can you write a batman x fem!reader where the reader is a super hero (like catwomans superhero version or smth) and they just keep meeting at crime scenes and always flirt and stuff and end up dating?
obsessed much? — b.w blurb
summary: request above!
pairing: bruce wayne x superhero!reader
warnings: murder; hero wears acape
word count: 360
A/N: hii tysm for this request! i haven’t been writing much lately since my ‘aftermath’ fic, so this isn’t as big as you probably wanted, it just really made me want to write it as a blurb. maybe i’ll write a full fic about it later. also, i know a lot of people hate cape-wearing heroes but i absolutely love the goofy cliche, so i had to add that in. let me know what you guys think!
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he’s kneeling near the body with the putrid smell of blood flowing into his nostrils. the puzzle pieces are coming together, but there’s still a big one missing. the shadows devours him into the room. what isn’t he seeing? slowly, the sound of heels hitting the ground approach his back.
“i thought heroes didn’t do investigations.” the first reply is a scoff, then the cape rustling.
“i don’t,” she says, “but this one hits home.” bruce turns around to stare the deep round eyes, one of the few things he could see underneath her mask. her suit fits perfectly in her curves, the stretchy and non-flammable fabric accommodating her fight needs. perfect for running around town. it wasn’t bulletproof, though, because the stone-hard skin was all the protection she needed. the cape was just for fun. “i saved this dude from a train wreck last week. thought it was a malfunction, it sure as hell doesn’t seem that way anymore.”
“you think someone is targeting you.” she hums in response, a chill running down her spine. all she wanted to do was to use her gifts for the good of the city. somehow, that ended up with the total of four murders so far.
“they want to get my attention, i just don’t know why.” a pout appears in her puffy lips. he wonders what they feel like. he takes the plastic gloves off, staying with the leather ones, and lays them on the floor.
“who wouldn’t?” as he gets up, a snarky grin lightens her face up. they’ve always been this good in making the other forget the bodies in the room. literally.
“obsessed much?” one step in his direction leaves them inches apart. he still thinks it’s way too far. the height difference has her looking up, batting her eyelashes. “maybe you’re the killer, batboy.”
“it’s batman.” his voice is baritone and raspy, and she can feel his warm breath on her cheeks. one move and his hands would be on her. her heart beats shamelessly on her chest, like drums inside her body. his gaze is so penetrating she has to look away before answering.
“right. cute.”
438 notes · View notes
Note
"I think this is the first time I've hear you moan... it was like a fucking melody." Prompt.
Can you please do battinson x female reader smut. After he takes her virginity the night before, they wake up in his bed & have sweet morning sex. Y/n is still sore from Bruce’s big 🍆 so he goes down on her first and then has sex.
sing for me
battinson x female!reader note: thank you for the request :) I was all blushy writing this one, oops warnings: smut, NSFW, praise, unprotected p in v, oral (f receiving), brief mention of cock warming word count: 1868
“Good morning, beautiful,” Bruce whispers into your ear as he presses a soft kiss against the nap of your neck. His hands gently glide across your unclothed skin; searching their way down your shoulder and across your torso before resting at your hip bone and gripping softly.
You’d barely just started to stir, mumbling an incoherent greeting as your boyfriend continues to press soft, loving kisses along the skin of your neck. “Last night was amazing, love; you are amazing…” he whispered again, gently nipping at your earlobe at the end of his sentence. You let out a small whine as a shiver runs down your spine. “Are you feeling okay? No… regrets?”
You rolled over to face Bruce, gently setting your hand on his cheek with a loving smile. “I’m okay,” you promised, kissing his nose gently. “No regrets. I guess, maybe I thought I’d feel different losing my virginity but I don’t… I just feel—” you paused to bite your lip as you tried to put words to what you were trying to say. “I love you.”
Bruce’s smile grew wider at your words. “I love you,” he whispered before pressing his lips against yours deeply. You spent a few minutes like this, your lips moving together passionately but soft and lovingly. You felt the butterflies in your stomach multiple as Bruce arched his hips towards you, pushing his erect cock against your stomach.
Images of the night before fluttered through your mind at the feeling: his kisses along your thighs, the way you came around his fingers first as he helped to stretch you out, the way he was so slow and kind as he pushed into you, the fullness you felt… God, the absolute fullness. “B-Bruce,” you giggled softly as you pulled away with a bright blush on your face. He had traced his hands down your thighs and was tracing soft circles against the sensitive skin just below your core.
“I think last night was the first time I’ve ever heard you moan, Y/N,” he whispered, looking into your eyes with his lust filled orbs. He voice was shaking and you could hear him swallow his own moan before you spoke again. “It was like a fucking melody. My own, personal, full band orchestra…” He groaned softly, dipping his chin down to kiss your neck more hungrily now.
You squeezed your eyes shut, chest heaving as his sloppy kisses ignited the fire between your thighs. “I would do anything to hear it again, Y/N; whatever you want, it’s yours; I just need to hear your moans from these perfect lips.” He gently reached a hand up to squeeze your chin ever so softly before pressing a hungry kiss into your lips.
You tried to stifle your moans still; it almost embarrassed you even though Bruce was here begging you for it. You and Bruce had only ever made out until last night, so the sounds and movements that accompanied the new pleasures that Bruce sent through your body still felt foreign. “Bruce,” you whispered, pushing against his chest slightly. “I-I want you…”
His eyes darkened slightly at your words and the hand that was tracing your thigh made quick work towards your folds. “W-Wait!” You quickly said, stopping his fingers at your pubic bone, just above your clit.
“What is it, baby?” Bruce whispered, gently brushing his hand through your hair. “I won’t hurt you.”
“I know you won’t, and you didn’t last night, either,” you reassure as a blush crept over your cheeks again. “It’s just that, I’m sore…”
Bruce couldn’t stop the prideful smirk that crossed his face. He moved his fingers slower now, gently pushing the tip of his middle finger through your glistening folds to find your clit first. “I can help with that, love,” he whispered, starting to reposition your bodies carefully. You gulped as you laid fully on your back now and Bruce hovered himself down your body, tossing the covers onto the floor.
He lined a trail of sloppy kisses from your neck, across your breasts, over your stomach before stopping just before your folds. He gulped as he stared at your pussy that was aching for (and because of) him, licking his lips as he looked up at you through his eyelashes and placed a soft kiss over your plump lips.
Your lips parted as a soft gasp escaped and the smallest moan echoed from your throat. Bruce squeezed his eyes shut at the sound as he slowly pushed his tongue to part your folds. “So beautiful,” he whispered, using one hand to kept your lips parted while the other gently raises your thighs over his thighs. He keeps his eyes on you as he laps his tongue against you harder and more direct now, just barely grazing over your entrance as his nose tickles against your clit.
He gently uses one finger to rub circles around your clit while slowly pushing his tongue into you, feeling your gummy walls clench around his intrusion. “Woah,” you moan, raising your hips to the feeling; he smirked against you as he gently fucked his tongue into you.
He worked slowly, switching between gently sucking on your clit and tongue fucking you. He watched you slowly let go, as your chest heaved harder and more moans escaped from your mouth. “I’m going to finger you now, baby,” he mumbled against your clit. “Is that okay?”
You reached your hands down to tangle your fingers in his hair. “Y-yu—” a strangled moan left your lips as he flicked his tongue against your clit. “Y-Yes!” He chuckled softly as he gathered your juices on his middle finger before gently pushing the digit into you.
“Your so tight, my love,” he whispered as he craned his neck slightly to see your face as he started to pump his middle finger in and out of you. “Such a beautiful sight…” he moaned, watching your eyes flutter shut. He reached his free hand up to grope your breast lightly, teasing your nipple between his thumb and forefinger.
After earning another soft moan from you, he gently slipped a second finger into you and continued to pump at the same speed. “You’re doing so good, baby,” he whispered as he took your hand and set it on your breast to replace his. He watched happily as your instinctively started to grope yourself and play with your nipple, moaning at the feeling of your own hands. He moaned softly, pushing his lips against your clit again as slipped a third finger in.
“Want you, Bru—” you cut yourself off with a breathy moan as his three fingers curled inside you. He moaned against your clit, lapping happily as you tightened around him.
“Are you going to cum, beautiful?” He mumbled against you, speeding his fingers up. You felt the coil in your stomach stretch at his words, barely noticing that was what that feeling meant. You nodded your head eagerly, your back arching slightly as it started to wash through you.
“F-Faster, please,” you cried out. Bruce quickly complied, pumping his fingers faster as your tightening walls tried to push him out; he latched his lips around your clit, adding another layer of pleasure as your coil snapped and your legs shook against his shoulders.
Bruce lapped at the extra juices from your orgasm, pulling his fingers out and using the slick to gently pump his very erect and uncomfortable cock a few times. “Think you can take me again?” He whispered as he crawled upwards so his face was hovering over yours.
“Please,” you whispered, still breathing heavily from your orgasm. “I want you inside of me.” He groaned softly at your words and stared into your eyes as he ran his tip through your folds, nudging it against your clit. “B-Bruce,” you voiced somewhere between a whimper and a moan.
He smiled at you as he gently pushed his tip into your entrance, slowly allowing another centimeter in with each of your heavy breaths. “You are – fuck – you are doing so good, love,” he praised, watching you blink rapidly as you attempted to stay relaxed and not clamp down on him. “That’s it, baby,” he reassured, grunting slightly as your walls squeeze around him, already milking his cock. “Hard parts almost over.”
Both of you let out nearly pornographic moans as he bottoms out inside of you, his face buried into your neck as you cling to his shoulders. “I feel like a fucking king inside of you,” he whispers into your ear, kissing your shoulder softly as he rolls his hips against you softly, helping you adjust to his size.
The moan he earns from the action could have sent him into madness, but he remained controlled as he started to gently rock his hips against you. He moved to watch your face as the moans escaped your lips, his dick hitting spots inside of you that re-defined everything you learned durin sex-ed in school. “That’s right, ma, sing for me,” Bruce moaned as he pulled nearly all the way out and slowly rocked back in.
He didn’t need to move fast or get any extra friction to get that feeling of his own high approaching already; the way your walls clamped around him and the heavenly sounds you were making underneath him were enough for that.
“B-Bruce!” You cried out as that familiar coil returned fast and hard. He reached his hand down between your bodies and started to feverishly rub your clit while his hips remained slow and controlled, thrusting deep and hard enough that you were nearly overwhelmed. “I-I think I’m cumming,” you moaned loudly, ignoring your immediate embarrassment from the lewd sounds that left your lips as you felt that pleasure wash across your entire body, making your toes curl.
“Fuck,” Bruce groaned, his hips stuttering. He had fully intended to get at least 3 more orgasms out of you like this but hearing you moan his name was hard to ignore.
“You feel so good stretching me out like this,” you moaned into his ear, not thinking about the consequences your actions would have on Bruce’s composure. He moaned loudly as he buried his face back into your neck and released his warm seed inside you, keeping his hips pressed against yours as he twitched against your walls.
“Holy shit,” he mumbled into your skin. “You are fucking amazing.” You giggled softly, whining as he pulled out of you. “Shh, my love,” he whispered as he rolled onto his side and pulled your back against his chest. He reached down and grunted as he pushed himself back into your cunt. “Feels so good, just want to stay here for a bit…” He reassures as you moan softly at the feeling of fullness again.
“I love you,” you whisper before yawning and nuzzling yourself backwards against him, earning a groan into your ear.
“I love you, so much,” he replies with a lazy kiss to your temple. You both fall back into a peaceful slumber thinking of how many mornings you’ll get to spend with his thick cock buried to the hilt inside of you.
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rxtrovillans · 8 months
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ღDom!Bruce Wayne (Nsfw)
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A/n: IM BACKKKK
Please reblog if you enjoyed <3
Summary: Some dom!bruce Wayne head canons :)
Bruce likes to keep your arms restrained,whether it’s him holding your arms down or have you tied down old fashioned — with some rope. He usually ties you up/holds you down while he eats you out.
When he wants to be a bit more romantic he’ll lace his fingers with yours as you devours your soaked cunt.
I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again. BATMAN LOVES EATING PUSSY.
Bruce loves tightly holding your hips as he plows into from behind, most time he ends up leaving bruises. To which he kisses the next day when they’re more visible.
He loves having you close so that he can whisper filthy things in your ear:
“Look at you taking my cock so well”
“You like it when I fuck you like you’re nothing?”
“Fuck you feel so good”
“Don’t you fucking cum”
“Look at how I fit so fucking good”
“You want more?”
Bruce likes handling you rough, whether it’s him forcing you to look at him in whatever position he puts you in.
He loves spanking you while you ride him, he loves the way your hips buck and how your body jerks when he does it.
He loves any position where he can still see your face, even in doggy or reverse cow girl he’ll still find a way to get to see your face.
Bruce loves making you whimper and beg for him (he teases you about it):
“Awww you need me?”
“How bad do you need me right now?”
“Fuck you’re soaked”
“Can I taste you?”
He DEFINITELY grunts
There’s only been one time where he has made you cry during sex, by extreme overstimulation. And as soon as he saw the tears roll down he came instantly and the hardest he’s ever came.
He loves seeing his cum on you, from him either cumming on your face, of cumming on your stomach/back/or tits.
He loves holding your legs down while he fingers roughly, curling his fingers inside you while playing with your clit. Bruce loves watching your body shudder and break down trying to keep composure while he fucks you, he loves watching your eyes roll to the back of your head and your mouth silently gape open from pleasure.
Thank you for reading!!!
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Bruce Wayne Masterlist
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Disclaimer: stories are fictitious and should not be taken literally, the behavior is entirely imaginative and the content may be inappropriate
Updated & repaired: 16/07/2023 (if a story won't load or something else, please message me and let me know)
MAIN MASTERLIST
Fluff🌺  Angst 🌩️ Smut❤️‍🔥
HEADCANONS W/ OTHER CHARACTERS:
Speak In Flowers 🌺 Flowers speak their own words and show their actions. And your man loves to speak it out loud.
Visiting Your Hometown 🌺 how would your boy act when you drag him along to your hometown
Helping You To Accept Your Stretch Marks 🌺your boy helps you accept your beautiful stretch marks as they are...pure perfection
Explaining To Your Man Kdramas🌺I (V) wrote small drabbles that paired my favorite men and dramas that I absolutely love
Dating A Tattoo Artist 🌺 being a tattoo artist and your boyfriend being part of it
When Tough Times Occur 🌺Life itself can be a pain and with its obstacles, it can seem impossible to overcome it but that’s what makes us stronger as people.
Someone Rubs You The Wrong Way With... 🌺 how would your man protect you when someone doesn’t mind your business
Having A Shower ❤️‍🔥having a shower with your man sounds like heaven right?!
One Thing He Loves About You (Physically Or Mentally)🌺 the title spoils the ending a bit
No Nut November ❤️‍🔥in the glory of No Nut November, you make a bet with your liver saying if they fail you cuff them and use them to your liking but if you lose they get to fulfil one of their fantasies. And you are keen on it to make them lose, by any means.
ASKS:
Neon Gift 🌺❤️‍🔥(Robert Pattinson! Batman) the character is really angsty emokid with eyeliner riding a motorbike and soundtrack is Nirvana, so maybe something dark and heavy and of course smutty alone time with Batman? Neon colors appreciated😍😍😍
Boots & Coat ❤️‍🔥 May I request some hot quickie in his Batcave, i believe he would enjoy if his gf surprise him in one of the gloomy days! Maybe some coat and boots with nothing underneath it or idk 👀👀
DRABBLES FROM MY 🧠
Stupid Man 🌺🌩️Bruce uses 'code 4' while encountering the Scarecrow resulting in defining the next moments that would shake up his family and his future
Library Make-Out🌺❤️‍🔥
Bittersweet Tea 🌩️(post break up theme)
Midnight Visits🌺
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anitalenia · 8 months
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𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒔 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒊𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒔 ₊˚⊹♡
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⋆˙⟡♡ SYNOPSIS ⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆ 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑎𝑡𝑠 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑟𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑓, 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝑤𝑜𝑚𝑎𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙 𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑡𝑦. ℎ𝑒 𝑢𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑠 ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑛’𝑡 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑖𝑛… 𝑢𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑙 ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 ℎ𝑒 𝑘𝑛𝑒𝑤 ℎ𝑒 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑𝑛’𝑡. 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒. ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
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╰✦・゚✵ 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒖𝒆: how he acted 𓂃⊹ the beginning of how it started. a part detailing how Batman initially treated you and handled the relationship.
╰✦・゚✵ 𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏: how it happened 𓂃⊹ how Batman fell in love with you and all the things that happened leading up to it. all the signs and actions that made him love you.
╰✦・゚✵ 𝒄𝒍𝒊𝒎𝒂𝒙: how it was 𓂃⊹ how Batman handled the reality of being in love with you and all the things he did to try and hide from it. better yet, his confession.
╰✦・゚✵ 𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈: how it all fell together 𓂃⊹ yours and Bruce’s relationship and how he was with you. some relationship headcanons for fun.
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⋆˙⟡♡ PAIRING ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ battinson x fem!reader
⋆˙⟡♡ CONTENT INCLUDES ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ mentions of sex, mentions of fighting and threatening, rough kissing, mentions of sad!Bruce / undertones of depression, mentions of alcohol & insomnia, bad words, sweet kisses, tears, hair pulling, love confessions, not really a whole lot of sexiness just headcanons mostly
⋆˙⟡♡ WARNINGS ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ mature content, emotionally tortured Bruce Wayne, maybe not my best story telling :(, mentions of blood and fighting cuz this is Batman, alcoholism
⋆˙⟡♡ AUTHORS NOTE ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ thanks to @diavolosbaby for requesting this!! Hope you enjoy and it lives up to your standards 🩷
OTHER LINKS ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ 𝒃𝒂𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒎𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 | 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕
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𝓫𝓪𝓽𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓼𝓸𝓷 ⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆ He told you what this was before he even started it. Told you this was strictly business, no feelings involved; you knew who he was during a chance encounter and you were the only one he could really come to after that. It was simple, straight forward; you needed his dick and he needed your pussy.
╰✦・゚✵ 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒖𝒆: how he acted 𓂃⊹
⋆˙⟡♡ Bruce came to you a lot, which was a little odd compared to how you perceived him to be. You thought he was a very busy man, always fighting crime or hiding away in his mansion, always too busy to bother with someone as unimportant as you. But no, you couldn’t have been more wrong. He was there at least three times a week, standing by your window in that black suit of his with his cape blowing with the wind, waiting for you.
⋆˙⟡♡ He was always quiet, head filled with whatever torturous pain lingered in the shadows of his mind, brimming with the secrets he never told you and you never asked for. He never spoke, unless it was a command spoken in a gentle gruffness. He never smiled, tried not to grunt or make too much noise, but some nights he couldn’t contain himself and the sounds just escaped him. Those were the nights he was particularly frustrated.
⋆˙⟡♡ He never let you take off his mask at first, he’d leave it on and you were left grasping at leather and air. He didn’t like affection, having you touch his scars and his body, it was too vulnerable, too intimate, for his liking. So, naturally, he didn’t stay to cuddle afterwards. The business was over, your job was done, he’d slip out the window as you’d bask in the aftershocks.
⋆˙⟡♡ His heart was cold but his body was warm, always warm. He was like a furnace when he’d be flat against you, fucking into you with his head in your neck and his hands gripping your jaw, your waist, your thighs. You’d always get so hot, craving his warmth like a bug to a bonfire.
⋆˙⟡♡ He never bothered to ask you anything about yourself, but you had a suspicion he had to have done some research on you during those long lonely days in the darkness of his home. He was too cautious not to, too curious. And he did. He found out everything about you but didn’t share a single detail about himself. He was Bruce Wayne, rich son whose parents died by day, and then Batman, vengeance personified by night. That’s all you needed to know.
⋆˙⟡♡ Batman only came to you in the middle of the night, sometimes bloody and beaten, your fingers running over tender bruises that would make him grimace. A part of him liked the pain, figured he deserved it. Sometimes you worried for him on the nights he was particularly beaten up, but he didn’t give you time to ask questions before he was shoving you against your dresser and pressing himself against you.
⋆˙⟡♡ He didn’t like being in the light, being too seen. He liked it with all the lights off, your room glowing with the dim light of the moon and the streetlights, your face pressed into his neck or shoved into a pillow so you couldn’t look at him.
⋆˙⟡♡ In the beginning, he liked it when you just submitted to him; he mostly cared about his own pleasure at first as he told you what this was, why he was doing this. That didn’t stop him from making sure you came at least once though. He couldn’t help it, didn’t want you to feel completely used.
⋆˙⟡♡ You noticed he always had this way about him when he touched you, almost like he yearned to hold you closer but knew he shouldn’t. His hands were rough, long fingers and hot palms, lingering on your skin before he’d move them away, never touching one place too long before he’d move on. It was almost a tease.
⋆˙⟡♡ He spied on you, a lot actually, would watch you from his spot on a roof top, stare at you through your big office window. He didn’t know why, just bored and curious, he always told himself. He’d see you stress yourself out, fill out paper after paper while your boss did nothing but throw more at you. You took it anyway and Bruce was confused by why. But he never asked, didn’t want to make a connection with you and risk losing you.
⋆˙⟡♡ He remembered sneaking into your house, waiting for you, but you were late coming home from work and he wasn’t sure if he should leave or not. He felt wrong about it, but he looked through your photos and your notebooks, saw a glimpse into your real life outside of him and work and he quickly put everything back the way it was and left. He didn’t want to see, he didn’t want to see you as anything different than what he already did.
⋆˙⟡♡ He would lie to Alfred about where he was going at night, why he would be so late coming home. But Alfred knew he was lying, he wasn’t sure about what exactly, but Alfred knew Bruce would come to him in time.
⋆˙⟡♡ Bruce tried hard to keep his and yours personal lives outside of your mutual situation, he really did. He didn’t want to know you, hear you talk about your problems and your dreams and fears and learn what made you you, from your own words. He was alone and knew he was meant to be alone, planned on being alone forever. Being with him would only put you in danger, a bigger target on his back he didn’t need. It was for your own protection, for the sake of both your lives and both your hearts.
⋆˙⟡♡ He vowed to himself to keep it that way, strictly professional, a hobby almost. He really didn’t plan to fall in love, he really really didn’t…
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆ Your living room was dark when you came home from work, later than usual because of your infuriating boss; he was lazy, relied on his employees to do his work while he sat in his office and ate his donuts. You hated him, loathed him, absolutely couldn’t stand him, but you understood he was just another obstacle, a milestone you needed to get through before you reached where you needed to be. So, you didn’t make a fuss, you didn’t complain, didn’t speak up. You did what you were supposed to as you were supposed to do it, just another hamster circling the wheel of business over and over until you finally got the balls to break the cycle.
Unfortunately, your ambition was almost too much for you sometimes, tonight was evidence enough.
You set your keys in the ceramic bowl by the door with a tired sigh, soft rain pattering on your windows, furniture lit up with a dim orange glow from the street lamps outside. All twisting shadows and rain drops. Your nose tickled with the scent of vanilla bean and raspberry, remembering the candle you had forgotten to blow out before you left. Oops.
Your hair was damp, gray suit littered in dark spots from the rain outside. Your limbs were sore and heavy, eyes burning and fluttering for a semblance of rest. Your heels were sore from the heels you’ve been prancing around in all day, your whole body exhausted in general. This was normal for you though, you always came home lagged and tired. You regretted being such a hard worker, but knew it would ultimately pay off in the future.
You walked to your bedroom, your heels clacking on the floor unevenly, dragging on the wooden boards as you navigated your way through the darkness. You held your purse loosely in your left hand, a shiver crawling up your spine as an unexpected gust of coolness swept up your legs and down your neck.
Your foot stuttered, lingering by the doorway in your bedroom as the rain seemed louder, less dull, wind whistling your black bed sheets. You furrowed your eyebrows at that, knowing you left your window closed before you left. Your eyes strained to see anything in the darkness as panic blared in your chest like a fire alarm, trying to make out any figure in the shadows of your room. You slowly crept forward, preparing for the worst, your exhaustion melting into hot fear that made your bones go stiff.
You swallowed, eyes immediately going to the open window to see the empty street below, the sound of a car alarm in the distance overpowering the rain that seemed to just pound harder. Your window was wide open, sheer purple curtains flapping from the breeze like a set of violet wings. Your eyes narrowed at that, hearing nothing but buzzing silence ringing in your ears. Then, it just hit you.
You couldn’t describe it exactly, but you felt a sensation of calmness wash over you as you let out a hefty breath, fear gradually melting away as your body relaxed and hands unclenched. It was like your body knew it wasn’t in any real danger, that there was nothing lurking in the shadows besides what was supposed to be. This was all too familiar to you; a setting you’ve come home to many times before. The open window, the darkness, the buzzing calm.
You felt excitement spark through you in recognition as you felt your neck tingle, a barely there whisper of a breath wash over your neck and tickle your hair.
You felt a smile quirk on your lips, turning around slowly, sucking in a sharp breath when you were met with the large bulking figure of the man in black standing just an inch away from you, a shadow hiding in shadow as he stared down at you with those black soulless eyes. He was big, a thing you liked about him, dirt encrusted on his suit and so out of place in the cozy warmth of your home. He was big and bulky, comically large for your small bedroom.
You looked back up at him, your purse dropping to the floor as instinctual arousal flooded your belly at just the mere sight of him. You couldn’t help it, your body knew what he was capable of and yearned for it. Your throat became dry, you swallowed once more as his eyes, those dark blue gems of his, looked over your face with a certain pained look in them, calculating and tortured, covered in black face paint that hid the beauty of his raw skin.
His pink lips were set in a firm frown, a faint scratch on his chin, breaths slow and even, calm. That damned mask of his covered his face, the fluffiness of his brown hair you seldom ever felt run through your finger tips. He always wore this expression, always so serious and somber like he was going through a dreadful ordeal every second he continued to live. You were always curious as to why, but knew he’d never answer, nor appreciate your nosiness.
You let your thoughts drift off, looking back up at him with a false confidence.
“I didn’t know you were coming tonight…” You mumbled quietly, losing any conviction in your voice as he took a small step forward, closer to you, his heavy boot thudding on your floor. You took a small step back, crumbling under him way too easily, as always. He always loved to completely invade your space, but never let you do the same to him.
You looked up at him, he looked down at you, breaths mingling together as a dark look washed over his oceanic eyes, his strong jaw clenching as he ran his eyes over your face like this was the first time he’d ever seen you. You felt your thighs tighten at the look in them, at the way he looked at you.
You were being honest though, you didn’t expect him tonight. You had seen him two nights ago, expecting not to see him for another few weeks at least.
“Shhh…” He shushed you gently, voice gravelly but gentle, tired but awake, undertones of desire.
He leaned down towards you and you found yourself holding your own arms back from wrapping around him and taking him already, just as he always took you. His gloved hands reached for the edge of the dresser behind you, trapping you between his strong arms and chest, completely invading your senses as your eyes looked into his, almost begging. His cape flowed down his shoulders and shrouded around you both until all you could see was black, the heady smell of smoke and rain tickling your nose, captivating.
He pressed himself against you, a brick wall, the mahogany’s edge digging into your lower back as your breath stuttered. You found yourself looking at his lips, his nose, his eyes, his closeness overwhelming you as you couldn’t figure out where to look, your skin feeling hot and stuffy, the confidence you had previously now a pile on the floor as your stomach twisted.
You could see the rain on his black suit, dripping down all his gear and heavy armor he wore and down to his waist, some falling to the floor in soft drips. You licked your lips, minding the mess, feeling lightheaded and fluttery as you looked back up at him with sparkling eyes.
He cocked his head at you, dark eyes running over your lips before looking back into your own, “Take your hair down.”
He always used such a gentle, tired voice, like he didn’t want to scare you and he could never find enough sleep, but the demand was obvious in his tone, eyes dark and predatory as they stared down at you intently. He didn’t need anymore command, knowing you’d do as he said just like you always did.
You didn’t dare disobey, sensing his need sizzling in the air just as strong as your shared want. You managed eye contact as you brought a hand up to the back of your head, taking out the black hair clip holding your hair together, the rain pattering on your roof almost too loud in your ears. He stared as your hair fell down your shoulders, cascading down your back in silky waves and framing your face. You swallowed, feeling the need to clear your throat as you put a hand through your hair and brushed it over your shoulder.
You saw his eyes run over your hair, the way it fell around your cheeks, his jaw clenching once more. He brought a hand up, big and heavy, running your locks through his fingers, imagining the softness of it as the sweet smell of apricot and citrus filled his nose, the signature flavor of your favorite shampoo.
You sighed at the pleasurable sensation on your scalp, head titling back as your eyes drooped, your hair clip falling to the ground noisily as you brought your hands up and grabbed his forearms. You might’ve been a little dramatic at just a few touches, but you were so needy, needy for this dangerous man you knew absolutely nothing about besides the obvious. He was a stranger in a suit, a stranger to you, but he somehow knew how to touch you better than any man you’ve ever been with.
He took note of your reaction, his own body twitching to touch you as he noticed the look in your eyes. He felt an intense need spark through him, his hand grabbing a handful of your hair and pulling your head back. He remained calm looking, but his eyes gave it all away.
Your head was yanked back, a pleasurable gasp leaving your lips as you squeezed his arms, looking up at him with your lips parted and breaths heavy. Your head stung, hair being pulled on in just the right way that had a familiar wetness pooling between your thighs, your body buzzing alive with feeling.
Bruce looked down at you, pressing the broadness of himself against you even harder, your breasts smushed against his suit, completely at his mercy. He looked down at you with an unraveled look in his eyes as he tilted your head up towards him.
He kissed you then, rough and hot, groaning into your mouth as his tongue played with yours, teeth clashing and breaths hot against each other. You couldn’t help but moan against him as he finally granted you what you’ve been wanting for so long now, scalp burning from his hold on your hair as your hands flew up and gripped at the leather of his mask, arms wrapped around his neck.
He was forceful and rough, his other hand crawling around your waist and lifting you off the ground with such ease it almost caught you off guard. You gasped into his mouth, his hand tightening on the hold in your hair as you grimaced at the pain.
You didn’t break the kiss, stuck on him as your heels fell off your feet and hit the floor. In two big strides you were suddenly lied flat on your bouncy mattress with Batman himself between your thighs, still holding your waist and head against him as he kissed you fervently.
Your skirt slid down around your thighs as you wrapped your legs around him, pressing him harder into you as all you wanted was him, him everywhere and him all over you. You moaned against him, helpless and desperate, as the ridges in his suit dug into your stomach, his lips movingly hotly against yours as he grunted against you. His cape flowed around you, thick and smooth, trapping you underneath until all you could see was blackness, unable to discern the space between his body and yours.
You knew this was going to be quick; he was too rough, too impatient and needy. It must’ve been a bad night for him, but you didn’t pry no matter how much you wanted to, no matter how much the questions bubbled in your throat and ached in your chest you knew you were in no place to ask. A part of you liked it that way, liked that this was strictly this. You liked that you didn’t have to answer to him, that you weren’t bound to him and he wasn’t to you. It was just simple, secrecy for a night of shameless lust-filled sex in return.
You both got what you wanted and that was enough. You appreciated that he didn’t go beyond that just as you didn’t. Outside of this room he was Batman, a dangerous vigilante some trusted and some hated, he was Bruce Wayne, an orphan child with more money and pain than he needed. But in the shadow of your bedroom, under the covers with you, there was no identity, no obligation, just two strangers seeking each other out in search of the one thing they both wanted, blessed with none of the other drama that followed a relationship.
With Bruce on top of you in this very moment, his hands gripping your body for no reason other than pleasure, you knew he would be gone before the night was over, and you’d be alone in your bed with bite marks and handprints on your skin to serve as a reminder of the man who gave them to you. You knew he would silently leave, slip away when he thought you were sleeping, you knew he wouldn’t talk or tell you any of his problems. He’d give you what you wanted and then slip into the shadows… you had to admit, It was the most perfect arrangement.
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╰✦・゚✵ 𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏: how it happened 𓂃⊹
⋆˙⟡♡ Batman didn’t plan on ever falling in love with you, but when he did, it had happened after a couple of months of doing what he did with you. But before he did, things had been going so well. You never intervened in his life and he never intervened in yours. Just as he expected, just as he preferred. It had been perfect, but somewhere along the way he had gotten too involved, started to trust you without even realizing it.
⋆˙⟡♡ At first, it started with him staying in your bed longer than he used to. You didn’t argue, comfortable with the heat his body gave you in the coldness of the night. He found himself dozing off after you would, your fluffy blanket soft on his skin and the mattress like a cloud for his broken body. He’d always be gone before you woke up though. You didn’t want to say anything about his little sleepovers, scared you’ll frighten him and he’ll stop. So you let him do as he pleased, enjoying his company albeit his silence.
⋆˙⟡♡ He never cuddled with you though, ever (don’t worry, he lets that slip too). Always stiff like a board on his side of the bed, expression crumbled with pain and peace. Sometimes he’d flinch, nightmares you never questioned him about but always noticed. Still, he’d wake up after about an hour, slip out your window, but not before giving you one last look, seeing how the moon shined down on your soft skin…
⋆˙⟡♡ Then, it was following you home after work, making sure you got home safe on those dark nights where it seemed like every shadow was following you. He’d be on the rooftops, claiming he was just curious and bored, cape flapping in the wind, when in reality he just needed to make sure you got home safely.
⋆˙⟡♡ You didn’t know, but he was watching you much more than you’d ever suspect. He watched your home on the nights Gotham was quiet, his body knowing you were so close but oh so far. He thought about you when he wasn’t thinking about you, thought about the routine he had found in you, the unfamiliar closeness, the comfort he had found between your body and your bed sheets.
⋆˙⟡♡ He started kissing you more, flinching less when your fingers would graze his back. He let you look at him, look deep into his eyes when he was inside you, have your hands touching his face and his back without the security of his suit to hide him. You loved when he did that, feeling him under your hands, skin to skin as it should be.
⋆˙⟡♡ He let you see his scars in the light, didn’t care when he took off his suit and your bathroom light was on, shining down on his body and the sculpted muscle of it. He had learned you wouldn’t judge him, but he was still hesitant, suffering inside when he looked down at the floor as you gazed at him in awe… you thought he was so beautiful.
⋆˙⟡♡ He would watch you when you worked, watch as your boss would storm in and demand more from you. Bruce didn’t like that, would clench his fist and grind his teeth when you’d get scolded like a child, told to work harder when all you did was work. He’d have to control himself when your boss would walk past him on his way home every night.
⋆˙⟡♡ He started conversing with you more, holding you against his chest when you two were done. He’d ask you profound questions as you two stared up at the ceiling, you’d tell him your answer. He didn’t talk a lot, just liked to listen. It would be intimate, almost romantic. He’d listen to what you’d have to say and he’d learn, learn more about who you were, where you came from, and he’d find himself not wanting to leave, a dull ache in his chest every time you’d fall asleep and he’d have to slip out your fire escape.
⋆˙⟡♡ He never admitted it to himself, but he started to look forward to seeing you, found comfort in your small bedroom and the absence of life’s problems that came with it. He started to enjoy the smell of vanilla bean and raspberry from those candles you always forgot to blow out before work. He started to pick up on your little quirks.
⋆˙⟡♡ While gradually falling in love with you, Bruce would deny, deny, deny. He acknowledged that he was starting to feel things he didn’t want to, and he’d be incredibly disturbed and moody, more than usual. Alfred would even be a little peeved with him.
⋆˙⟡♡ Bruce would find himself asking you how work was. He would be concerned about the bags under your eyes and the wrinkles in your clothes, not outright concerned but he couldn’t stop himself from asking. He wanted to hear your voice.
⋆˙⟡♡ He would be very hesitant around you, scared he was doing too much when he’d touch you now. It wasn’t like before, when he would just grab and control. Now he was really touching you, trying to feel you, every dip and curve of your skin under his fingertips.
⋆˙⟡♡ He had gotten way too comfortable with you now, even he knew that. He relied on you and the comfort you gave, a feeling he’d been without for so long. He was like a cold soul lost in the woods, searching for something, anything, hollow, a warm body to bring him back. He found that with you, and he didn’t even realize it until he started to feel pain when he wasn’t around you, a pain in his chest like a knife was stabbing into his heart. He missed you but he didn’t want to…
⋆˙⟡♡ He stared at your face a lot, too intensely for your liking, thoughts behind those dark eyes of his he’d never tell you about if you confronted him about it. He just liked to look at you, watch you giggle and smile. He’d do it without realizing how intimidated it made you feel, how you’d have to blush and look away, pretend you didn’t notice. He just liked to look at you, soak in your expressions before he’d leave again.
⋆˙⟡♡ The signs were all there when you thought about it. The lingering touches, the admiring stares, the countless nights he’d watch over you. He felt like a creep, following you around so much, but he couldn’t help it. You were a pleasant distraction and he was a fool, easily succumbing to those feelings he had for you without even knowing it. They had been growing inside of him like a blooming vine… they started out small but grew into so much more, and he ignored it, until he just couldn’t take it anymore…
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆ It was a quiet night in September, it had been raining for days and the coolness of autumn had just started to blow into the city. The trees danced with orange and red leaves, strewn all over the road and sidewalks, getting stuck under peoples rain boots and car tires. Your window was cracked, letting a cool breeze into your room that made you shiver, the savory smell of someone’s cooking wafting into your noses from the apartments across the way. You looked at your tv, black screen shut off but reflecting the blurred forms of your mingled bodies on your bed, arm outstretched on Bruce’s stomach, head lying on his chest. You could hear his heart, slow and calm just as he always was, pumping in your ear and lulling you to sleep.
You wanted to stay awake though, listening to the sounds of cars driving in rain puddles and horns honking, the occasional laughter of a passerby. A candle was lit on your dresser across the room, with the faint scent of vanilla bean and raspberry in the air just as Bruce liked. Your legs were a little sore, thighs tender from where Bruce had gripped them so hard, lips puffy from where Bruce had kissed them so much. You felt satisfied, pleasant even, comforted by his presence, the knowledge of his identity absent in your mind as you didn’t register him as a millionaire, or as a crime fighting vigilante, you never really did.
He was neither of those things to you. He was… he was Bruce, just Bruce, your Bruce. Not Bruce Wayne or Batman, and that was enough for you. You took him as he is not as he was, never questioned him about his parents or how Batman was even created. He appreciated that, didn’t like answering questions about himself he wasn’t comfortable with. He was comfortable with silence, but he didn’t mind hearing you.
He was awake too, didn’t want to fall asleep before you, something in his mind telling him he should leave already, not sink into the mattress any further and let himself relish in your warmth. He had responsibilities, duties, people he needed to save and crime he needed to stop. It was Gotham, something was always wrong and someone always needed help. But he couldn’t think about any of that stuff around you, his thoughts always either empty or crowded with your smile.
His suit was a mess on the floor, scrambled just like his mind, bat mask clear as day in his vision, lit up in a red glimmer from the light outside. It stared at him with its blank eyes, watching, the buzzing of a neon light loud in his ears. It’s like it was mocking him, patronizing him. He frowned at it, turning his head slightly away from it, like it was a reminder of what his true purpose was, where he should really be this late other than here in your arms. He knew he should go, felt his arm twitch like he was about to get up and unwind from you.
“Don’t you have somewhere you should be? Or are you gonna stay?” You mumbled sleepily, voice so quiet and sweet he almost didn’t hear it.
His eyes drifted to you, rubbing his fingertips on your rib cage and savoring the feeling of your smooth skin underneath him, against him. You were so unblemished, unlike him. A few scratches and scars here and there that held stories and memories, none like his. His were ridged and pale, covered his skin, they held memories but none of them good. Memories that served as reminders of why this was so wrong, of who he really was and who he needed to get back to once he left these four walls.
He thought about it for a minute, frowning at the ceiling fan.
Did he have somewhere to be? Yes, yes he did. He always had somewhere to be, that was the problem. He couldn’t be everywhere at once, he could be somewhere else, but he was here instead. He was here with you, here with you. He had somewhere to be, could be anywhere else, but he was here. Everyone always expected him to be where they were, expected him to save everyone. But he couldn’t, he couldn’t save everyone and he couldn’t be everywhere they wanted him to be. He was with you but he shouldn’t be. Guilt settled in his gut as he swallowed, hands itching like it was wrong to touch you.
His eyes, dark and somber like storm clouds, especially just as captivating, looked over your frazzled hair like he could see your face, knowing how exhausted you must’ve been from work and sex, how it was so late already and how you’d have to leave so early. Your breathing was slow and even, warm breath brushing over his chest from your parted pink lips, all cues of how you’ve already fallen asleep. He thought about your question, yes, yes he had somewhere he needed to be, he always did.
He didn’t bother speaking, just turned his head back and looked at the ceiling as his arm held you just a little tighter against him, hearing the splash of a car racing through water from somewhere outside.
He’ll stay for a little while.
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╰✦・゚✵ 𝒄𝒍𝒊𝒎𝒂𝒙: how it was 𓂃⊹
⋆˙⟡♡ When he realized he was in love with you he left, he left for a long time. He refused to let those feelings blossom into anything more, grow into something more… dangerous. Love was dangerous, he was dangerous. He isolated himself from you, in a worse mood than usual. Alfred had picked up on it, knowing there was more going on than Bruce wanted to say. You couldn’t help the disappointment as the days turned into weeks, weeks of hope being crushed on with every night he wasn’t there.
⋆˙⟡♡ He told himself it was for the best, heartbreak was something you could heal from, death was something you’d never come back from. With his life, you would die. He couldn’t lose anyone else, he couldn’t. He couldn’t subject you to that same fate his parents had.
⋆˙⟡♡ Still, he couldn’t stop himself from watching you when you’d walk home, still sitting outside your job, your home, watching you from a distance to make sure you’d be alright. He couldn’t sleep if he didn’t.
⋆˙⟡♡ He couldn’t sleep anyway. Eyes a dark purple and the ache in his chest getting so much worse. It was because of you he couldn’t sleep, bed empty and cold without you, mattress hard and firm unlike yours. His nightmares consisted of your death and his inability to save you. He was better off seeing nothing with his eyes open than your blood with his eyes closed.
⋆˙⟡♡ Alfred was concerned. Confronted his Master Bruce during breakfast when Bruce was silent and gloomy. Yes, Alfred knew he would confess eventually, just needed a little shove. “I can’t stop thinking about her, Alfred.”
⋆˙⟡♡ You couldn’t stop thinking about him either… work was slow and long, your thoughts muddled together as you couldn’t stop racking your brain for a reason, any reason, as to why, why he left. Did you do something wrong?
⋆˙⟡♡ You didn’t want to say you missed him, you didn’t want to admit that to yourself. You felt almost stupid, like he had used you and discarded you, but wasn’t that the whole point? You were a mess, confused and feeling a different kind of lonely only a sad heart could bring you. You felt abandoned.
⋆˙⟡♡ Bruce would hide up in his room and think, read books but not pay attention to the words. Alfred would bring him his tea and advice whenever he could, but it seemed nothing could cheer him up. Bruce felt a different kind of loneliness now than he had his whole life. When his parents died they were taken away from him, he didn’t choose to give them up like he did you. He felt like he had lost yet another person.
⋆˙⟡♡ He really thought about moving on from you, a part of him arguing thats what was best for you. But the thought of fully giving you up to anybody else angered him. You weren’t his but you’d always been in some way, his. He yearned to be near you again, an itch in the back of his mind only you could scratch.
⋆˙⟡♡ He drunk, a lot. Spent his free time as Bruce Wayne drowning in whiskey and scotch, heavy liquor bottles empty and discarded on the floor. He almost felt like crying, but he’d just pass out on his bed, too drunk to crawl under the covers. Sometimes he’d pass out in the common room, leg hanging off the couch and hair unraveled, Alfred cleaning up the mess and putting a blanket over him.
⋆˙⟡♡ He drowned himself in his work to distract from you. He was frustrated, angry, weeks having gone by without you having set him on edge. He was beating petty criminals to a bloody pulp, sending them to Gordon barely conscious. He needed to take his anger out on something, anything. Alfred would just sigh when a bloody Bruce would storm past him, ensuring his suit was cleaned before the next day.
⋆˙⟡♡ It was a late Friday night when Bruce let his anger take control of him. It was some petty thief thinking he’d run off with the bags of cash he’d stolen. Bruce didn’t let him speak, anger taking over him like thick ropes of lava in his blood, anger that had festered in his black heart for weeks, simmering under his skin waiting for the moment it could boil over.
⋆˙⟡♡ He was bloody and dirty when he came to you in a blur of anger and love, adrenaline running through him with a determination boiling in his bones.
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆ It was a dark cloudy night when you saw Bruce standing outside your window; you lay in bed, cozy and under the covers, bathed in the dim golden light of your lamp. You were pretending to read a book you’ve meant to finish with a frown on your face, mind full of memories and the fruitless desire to have it all back. It was a melancholic pain that throbbed under your skin, sharp and persistent like a plant rash, the memory of forgotten things plaguing your mind and wishing it could just all go back to the way it was.
You almost didn’t see him if it wasn’t for the thud on your fire escape; you jumped and the book flew to the floor with a thud. Your eyes widened and you felt a wave of excitement and relief flourish through your veins as you scrambled off your bed. You couldn’t believe it, heart pounding as you rushed over to your window and swung it open like an eager baker opening an oven door. It was a big window, one with a giant view of the street below and the park across the ways, big enough to fit a grown man in a heavy suit.
Your hands were almost frantic, eyes wide in disbelief to just see him standing there in all his glory, back to you like he used to be all those weeks ago before he left, left you, left you behind. The memory of his loss and betrayal flashed back like a pull to reality, all those sad feelings you pushed away coming full frontal in your head like a tidal wave in your fragile brain.
Bruce’s heavy stare burned through you and it was like you could feel it on your skin, like a million microscopic bugs crawling all over you, your body buzzing with electricity and your hands almost shaking. You felt a flurry of difficult emotions coursing through you that all muddled together in one big mess in your head; anger and happiness, relief and irritation. You couldn’t pinpoint on one, feeling everything all at once when you opened your window and Batman was stood on the other side of you in all his threatening grandness.
You hated that he looked so good despite the grime.
You were left stunned as all you could do was stare at him. This was a moment you’ve only dreamt about, wished for for days and countless weeks, fantasized about for hours on end. How you would react, what you would say, how it would all go… and especially how he’d apologize on hand and knee for you, atone for his sins and plead for your pardon. It was all meticulously planned and carefully thought out, and now here it was, the moment you’ve been waiting for for so long; it was finally here, staring at you in the face. And it was so funny how all those ideas and all that confidence you had just seemed to vanish now that it was time to confront them; you were frozen as you stared back at him, unsure of what to do next and too tongue tied to formulate a thought. All that planning, pointless in the face of its precipitant.
Bruce stared back at you longingly and painfully, breaths hard and heavy and knuckles bruised and sore. His eyes were smeared in that black paint he always used, thick with an unspoken emotional torture, like he was being tormented in his own mind at the mere sight of you. He was in a way; you were his reminder of why he left, the catalyst of his destruction but at the same time his anecdote. It was all very confusing and contradictory; all he could understand was that it pained him to look at you, but he couldn’t find it in himself to look away.
Blood was splattered over his cheeks and suit, his heart pumping in his ears as he looked you over, putting all the pieces of you back in his mind; from your face, to your pink pajamas, to the black socks on your feet, then back to your cautious eyes. You were all right, you were okay and he was so relieved. He felt a weight drop from his chest, knowing you were in no certain danger but he always worried for you if he couldn’t see you, a consequence of everyone he cared for always getting hurt some way or another. Bruce felt what he could only describe as happiness, a feeling he only got with you, hit him full on like a train, smacking into his heart as his throat closed up.
He had missed you.
He had missed you a lot, more than he ever wanted to admit, but he would gladly do so for you. He had missed your pretty eyes and sweet voice, soft hands and smooth skin, and your voice, calming and rich like honeyed pastries. You were beautiful to him, so beautiful, and he couldn’t believe he had shown up here once more, that he would risk ever putting it in danger. But he had to come, he couldn’t take it anymore… and if his love for you was that perilous then his soul be damned.
He noticed the subtle way your face crumbled as your initial excitement died down, settled into pain and sadness and concern; your eyes running over the blood on him, wondering if it was his, really looking at him and realizing that he was really here, back on your fire escape. He couldn’t believe it himself, but here he was and he didn’t plan on leaving, not unless you ordered him to. You were nervous, eager to touch him, feel the suit under your palms like you used to, but you were also too stubborn to welcome him back into your home so easily, hurt once and not wanting to be hurt again. He understood that notion all too well.
Bruce felt an unfamiliar form of courage jolting through him, a type of courage so different from the one he used to fight criminals every night. This was a type of boldness that made him just want to grab your face and kiss you, hard, make up for all the lost time between you and spill all his confessions in the space between his lips and yours, make you taste the apology on his tongue. All he wanted was to be here again, here in your room; his nose was already filling up with the smell of vanilla bean and raspberry, his muscles relaxing instinctively at the sweet smell of it, knowing he was safe here. He wanted so badly to be here again, but now that he was he didn’t know what to do.
Bruce admitted that he was a little disappointed at your reaction to him, that you didn’t welcome him back in with open arms and gleeful smiles, kiss him and hug him and show him how much you missed him. But he knew that was too optimistic. He knew your antipathy was to be expected; he could only imagine the amount of hurt he’d put you through if it was anything compared to his own. He could only imagine how many nights you came home hoping he was there, waiting for you like he always did, how many days you kept looking at the clock, wishing it would hurry up and you could just go home already, how many days you hoped it would be different from the one before, how much hope he must’ve killed.
He felt horrible, regret and guilt spinning in his stomach as his muscles twitched, itching to touch you again; you were a drug coursing through his veins, and after two months of withdrawal he could say he was positively hooked once more. But, he knew he couldn’t just grab whatever part of you he liked like a greedy child in a toy store. He needed patience, he needed to wait for you to warm up to him on your own terms, no matter how long that took.
So, Bruce just stood on your fire escape with his hands holding the frame of the wall, blood and vanilla heavy on his nose as he stared at you, breathing hard but calm, waiting for you to make a move, any move or semblance of invitation.
Your eyes ran over the blood on him, the awkward silence deafening with all the unspoken words and yearning you both wanted so badly to address. Your eyes narrowed at the red spots and stripes on his suit and face, dripping off his gloves, worry shooting through your buzzing veins. You took a step back away from him in discontent, curious as to why he has suddenly appeared after so long away, eyes looking him over like the situation has really dawned on you. It had been weeks, two months even, since you’ve seen him, seen his black eyes and pointed ears, seen the vague Batman symbol on the chest piece of his suit.
Memories were coming back wave after wave at the sight of him, ones that wanted you to embrace him, ones that were gradually persuading you to give up this act and just be thankful he was here again, back to you. But you knew better than that, knew better than to just simply overlook a mistake as monumental as the one he made. You needed to have some damn pride.
Despite that…
Were you happy to see him? Yes, yes you really really were. You wanted him to just take off his mask and kiss you already, hell, you didn’t care if he left it on because you just wanted him to kiss you again. You wanted to feel his big arms around you once more and feel his warm palms on the dip in your back. Have him lift you up and smile into his kiss and say those magical words you yearned to hear. You could try to act tough all you wanted but at the end of the day you were still just a girl, a sad girl who wanted to be held by the man she missed so much… but your anger was still so present, lingering cold in your veins and greatly overpowering any positive emotions you had.
You wanted a damn good reason for why he did what he did.
“What are you doing here, Bruce? I thought you had moved on.” You licked your dry lips, crossing your arms and glaring at him with distaste and a false sense of confidence, a faux act of strength and apathy to cover up the real pain you felt. Your tone was anything but friendly, standoffish and disinterested, conveying the anger you felt almost perfectly; if it wasn’t for the waver in your voice and the glimmer in your eye you would even believe yourself.
You frowned at him, a cruel part of you hoping he was feeling any kind of hurt, any kind of hurt like the hurt you’ve felt. But at the same time, you just wanted so badly to hear that he came back for one reason and one reason alone. You. You wanted to hear him say that he missed you dearly, that he was so sorry for what he did and that he’d never do it again. If you heard that, then maybe, just maybe, you’d forgive him. No, you definitely would.
Bruce almost flinched at your tone, but knew it was well deserved. He looked at you with guilty eyes, like he’d committed the most heinous crime (which in his mind, he did), frown deep on his lips where a cut was on his skin, swallowing down the nerves in his throat at the look in your eyes.
A string of fear curled in his chest and made him nervous, made Batman nervous, a fear of being rejected, of him telling you how he really felt and you not reciprocating it. He couldn’t bear it, the uncertainty. But he was also afraid of hurting you any more than he already has, arguing with himself that he shouldn’t have come. But he was already here and he couldn’t leave now, couldn’t disappoint you any more than he already has. He looked up at you, his chest fluttering when he looked into your eyes.
“‘Could never move on from you…” Bruce grumbled in that deep voice of his, sounding pained and earnest and genuine, pulling at your heart like a trained harpist and making your eyes burn with brimming tears. He meant it, meant it more than you knew, staring at you with so much emotion in his eyes it almost scared you to see it; it was so unlike him to be so emotional, a part of you grateful that he trusted you enough to show it.
You felt a tingle on your skin when you looked back at him, a spark of joy peeking through the dark clouds around you. I could never move on from you…
Bruce’s dark eyes flickered between yours, gauging your reactions, intense and brooding as they always were. They bore into you like he was laying your soul bare in front of him, seeing deeper inside of you than you thought was possible. It made you feel flustered and agitated at being examined so fiercely. His voice, my god his voice, so soft but so gravelly, made you flustered, especially hearing it again after so many weeks of going without it. It washed over your skin like a warm blanket and made goosebumps pop up on your arms, a chill going through your spine that made your heart spike. You were trying so hard to fight it, fight that feeling inside of you that wanted him so badly.
You almost scoffed at his proclamation, looking at him offended, almost too theatrically, too rehearsed.
“Well it seems like you did, so.” You shrugged stubbornly, not knowing what else to say, really, not wanting to speak too much or else you’re afraid he’d hear the longing stutter in your voice. You shook your head incredulously and looked at the wall besides the window, where he stood outside in the cold air still. Secretly, you wanted to bring him inside already, bring him between your arms and hold him against your chest until he was one with you, unable to leave and bound to you forever, souls entwined and breaths shared. That may be a tad dramatic, but that’s what you felt; you knew he needed to cross that barrier on his own… you also knew that the moment he stepped back into your sacred space, the moment his heavy black boot stepped onto your wooden floor, you wouldn’t be able to keep your composure anymore, and you’d collapse in his arms like a dying bride.
Obviously, that couldn’t happen. You needed resistance, strength, a reason.
You couldn’t look at him, didn’t want him to see the tears welling in your eyes and the vulnerability staining your face. It was too embarrassing and too real; you didn’t want Bruce to see how easily you got worked up because of him. You didn’t want him to see all of you just yet, wanted him to feel guilty for what he did to you. He hadn’t even said much, just a single sentence, and you were already a desperate mess hiding under a false security. It was always so easy for him to get to you and you wished you were stronger for it.
Bruce knit his eyebrows at that, subtly shaking his head with a frown as his eyes still searched for yours. He wanted you to look at him, to see the honesty in his words and the sincerity in his blue eyes. He wanted you to see that he was hurting too, just as much as you.
“I didn’t… I just needed some time away… I needed to think.” He confessed vaguely, his voice gentle like he didn’t want to spook you, quiet but just loud enough for you to hear. Bruce always treated you like you were so fragile, a slippery glass vase between his clumsy hands. He never wanted to drop you, hurt you and watch you crumble into a million pieces… but he already did, and now he was trying to glue them all back together, put you back together, but only if you’d let him.
That was something you had come to appreciate about him; his gentleness, so opposite of the image he represented, what everyone believed him to be. He wasn’t just Batman, vengeful and harsh and dangerous. He wasn’t just bloody fists and sharp edges. He was incredibly genuine and tender, complex and multilayered; he was more than the bat, the symbol, the orphan, the millionaire. He was intricately sewn together with all different threads, and over the course of the year you and Bruce shared together you’ve managed to pluck and pull them all, see the warm center inside his cold shell.
Those were sides of him only you got to see, only you got to witness, only you got the privilege to marvel at and cherish. It might have been foolish to think, and you certainly think so now, but you had thought that made you special, that you were the only one he trusted enough, cared for enough, to show that side to… that there was more affection sizzling between you than you both wanted to say… but that just made it hurt so much more when he left, it just convinced you that you were too gullible for love, too naive to tell the difference between love and infatuation. When he left, he made you feel stupid.
You furrowed your eyebrows at his response, your face twisting into an anger Bruce didn’t want to see. Your eyes flashed to him immediately, burning and piercing and blazing, his words bouncing around in your head like a twisted game of racquetball. To think? He left, for months, because he needed to think? It sounded so phony, a simple excuse to disguise the truth, a simple excuse that only angered your unspoken pain.
“To think? To think about what? You’ve been gone for weeks, Bruce! You just left, didn’t tell me anything, didn’t tell me why, but now you’re telling me it’s because you had to think? That sounds ridiculous. I think I deserve a better explanation than, you had to think.” You mocked him, scoffing in his face. You were frustrated and lonely, wanting, deserving, a better reason to justify the pain you went through when he left. You couldn’t believe he couldn’t at least grant you that, a credible reason why.
Bruce grimaced, eyes closing like the sting of your words had just stung him. He slouched, frustrated that he couldn’t seem to get the words out that he wanted to. They were stuck in his throat, itching his tongue and wanting so badly to get out, but he was mute, could only try to explain himself. Besides, there were no words to express just how sorry he was, but he knew how right you were. You were always right. You did deserve more than that, you deserved a better explanation.
Bruce swallowed down his dry throat, clenching his jaw as he looked back up at you, aching to step through the threshold of the window and grab your face between his broken hands and kiss your tears away. He felt hot coils of guilt and regret wrap around his heart and squeeze, his chest collapsing in on itself.
“I-I know how it sounds, but it’s the truth. I needed to think… and to do that I had to leave. I just needed to understand why.” He spoke raspy, voice gritted with anguish and sincerity, looking at you with such desperation it made your foot itch to step towards him, made your heart yearn to comfort him. He was downright pitiful, fingers holding onto the brick so hard it could crumble under his strength. He was slouched down, looking up at you with sunken eyes, begging and pleading without an ounce of shame.
You stared back at him, clenching your jaw so hard your teeth hurt. God, you really did just want to hold him again, kiss him again… the need was too much, burning inside you and crawling under your skin. You had your hands crossed over your chest like you were physically trying to hold yourself back, like you were trying to protect yourself against his woeful whims of persuasion.
You frowned at his statement, the rational part of your brain that was still logical and loyal to you making you want to question him more, learn more, find out more. Your shoulders slumped as you looked back at him confused, lips pulled in a frown.
“Why what? Think about what? Can you stop being so vague!” You said exasperated, wishing he would just say what he meant and stop being so damn secretive all the time. Especially now, especially here. He was the one who showed up here after all this time and now he was trying to just sneak by with it. You refused to let him, forced him to confront his own dilemma. You couldn’t see it any other way, blinded by your own rose colored rage that needed an explanation.
Bruce grit his teeth, working up the nerve to answer you as he looked down at your feet, looking physically pained. He wanted to tell you why, he wanted to tell you why so badly, but just as soon as he wanted to say it he was found at a loss for words, struck with that same fear again that made his words stutter. That same fear of being rejected, ridiculed, that fear of putting his heart on his sleeve and having you pierce it with a silver dagger. He was Batman, the shadow of shadows who dealt with worse pain than you could ever imagine. He’s been shot, stabbed, cut up, pushed out of a window, and any other horror you could ever imagine but somehow… none of that hurt would ever compare to the pain caused by your rejection.
You had the power to destroy him and you didn’t even know it. You didn’t know how much of him you carried with you, how easily you could make him fall. Against Gotham he was the Dark Knight, relentless, strong and menacing, capable of things you didn’t want to think about. Against you… he was nothing, powerless, a twig in your hand you could crush without a thought. He was weak against your beauteous thrall and he just wished he could’ve admitted that to himself so much sooner.
Bruce felt his heart constrict, his palms suddenly clammy and his throat suddenly dry; he swallowed roughly. His own heart pounded in his ears, beating under his hot skin, the reality of what he was about to say hitting him full force and he felt like he could pass out, right here on your fire escape, light headed and heavy chested.
He let out a big breath through his nose, gripping the wall between his bloody gloved hands, mustering up the confidence he needed and pushing his fear down, down and deep so it couldn’t be acknowledged anymore. He smothered his insecurities and doubts like a candle wick, clenched his jaw and cleared the smoke from his mind. Bruce looked up at you, eyes glimmering like fire light as they looked over your form once more. He looked up from your socks and your feet, up to your smooth legs and pink nightgown, up to your face, where he focused intently on your lips and nose and eyes.
You looked back at him, where he was staring at you with a type of ferocity and intensity it had your breath stuck in your throat, chills going down your spine.
“…Why I was in love with you.”
You swore your heart stopped.
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╰✦・゚✵ 𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈: how it all fell together 𓂃⊹
⋆˙⟡♡ Of course, you loved him back, and Bruce couldn’t have been happier about it. But, during the actual relationship he was very much still the same, but you could see that he was trying to be closer to you, it was just hard for him. You helped him, made him feel not so scared.
⋆˙⟡♡ You were patient with him, never judged or pushed him to do things you knew he had a hard time doing. He always wanted to talk to you about his parents but he would stop himself before he went in depth about it. That was something he needed time with, and you understood it.
⋆˙⟡♡ He was always doing small things for you that you probably wouldn’t have noticed if you weren’t so focused on him. He would always smooth out your pillows for you, make you breakfast and be shy that he made something you didn’t like, he would even blow out your candle for you if you ever left it lit. He would give you small gifts, sometimes expensive, a bracelet or a necklace, a set of earrings his mother adored. You loved them all.
⋆˙⟡♡ You had to buy him those vanilla bean and raspberry candles you had. He set them up around his home because the smell reminded him of you and your house, his safe space.
⋆˙⟡♡ He still didn’t like to talk, but he loved to listen. He’d ask questions that were deeply intimate and personal because he wanted to know everything about you. He’d apologize for prodding but he really had no shame about it. He wanted to know you more, learn everything.
⋆˙⟡♡ He loved holding you in his sleep, you made his nightmares go away and made him feel less lonely. He would still flinch sometimes, keep his hands at appropriate distances away from your precious parts. He was a gentleman, that was for sure.
⋆˙⟡♡ He didn’t sleep a lot still, so he’d always stare at you when you slept, brush his hand on your cheek when he’d leave in his Batman suit for the night. He hated leaving you, but knew he had responsibilities to his city he couldn’t abandon.
⋆˙⟡♡ He introduced you to Alfred, rather, Alfred went to clean up Bruce’s room early in the morning and found you two in a rather compromising position. He just chuckled and walked out while Bruce awkwardly scrambled to compose himself. You were mortified.
⋆˙⟡♡ Bruce liked to draw you a lot, most of the time from memory when he was bored on a late night, sitting on a rooftop with charcoal scratching on ripped paper. He didn’t show them to you, but you found them anyway.
⋆˙⟡♡ Bruce was soft, gentle with you, but sex was a different story, just depended on his day. Most of the time he was sweet, making up for leaving you and hurting you. He always carried so much guilt about it, even when you told him you were over it and understood why he did it.
⋆˙⟡♡ He didn’t come out with you as a couple to the press, as Bruce Wayne. He didn’t want them to badger you and question you, make you feel uncomfortable. He came to you a lot, his house was always under constant scrutiny from the public.
⋆˙⟡♡ He threatened your boss when you refused to quit your job. It was late, he was Batman, and your boss just so happened to walk past him. Bruce threw him against the wall with promises of pain if he didn’t treat you right. You had a sneaky suspicion your boyfriend had something to do with your now positive work atmosphere and sudden raise, but decided not to question him.
⋆˙⟡♡ He was always touching you, or kissing you, hesitant to show outright affection so he was subtle when he did it. A hand on your lower back, hovering over your jacket or gently pressing into it. A hand on your arm, a peck on your forehead, a kiss to your cheek when you’d fall asleep.
⋆˙⟡♡ He told you he loved you every night, rarely ever during the day. It was in his bed or yours, when it was silent and cozy, he’d whisper it in your hair or against your skin, and you’d smile and tell him the same.
⋆˙⟡♡ You never expected anything from him besides his love, but he always felt like he owed you something, grateful that you gave him this chance to be with you despite what he did.
⋆˙⟡♡ He was constantly worried about you, on edge when you would be out by yourself or come home later than usual on the nights he couldn’t see you. He would always think the worst, think you were dead and he was too late, someone found him out and was using you to blackmail him. All the worst scenarios to prepare himself for the worst outcomes.
⋆˙⟡♡ Bruce is constantly having negative intrusive thoughts. You’ll leave him, he doesn’t deserve you, he should’ve stayed gone. He’ll go quiet and try to isolate himself when that happens, so you always try and support him and reassure him in any way you can.
⋆˙⟡♡ He still has such a hard time being vulnerable and talking about his past, but he tries with you. He’ll get tongue tied sometimes or a sentence will drift off before he can finish it, but he’ll try.
⋆˙⟡♡ Bruce is always so busy he forgets to eat. You’ll constantly remind him food is good for you. So, some days he’ll go eating nothing at all, despite you and Alfred’s insistence. But when he does, it’s a big feast Alfred prepares for him.
⋆˙⟡♡ He is very sweet, a complete gentleman. He has the best manners. He always says his pleases and his thank yous. He’ll follow a question with, when you have a chance, if you can. With Alfred though he’ll be so distracted he’ll just walk away. He doesn’t mean to, just makes sure he’s extra gentle with you.
⋆˙⟡♡ He likes black and white films to play in the background when he’s not doing anything. Or slow, almost gothic music to really set the tone. He’s emo like that and I just know it.
⋆˙⟡♡ He goes to Alfred a lot for relationship advice, scared he’ll mess up and you’ll leave him. He wants to avoid making mistakes with you, so he’ll ask for help or reassurance on what to do.
⋆˙⟡♡ Bruce has a tendency to ignore any problem until it goes away, especially to avoid a fight with you. He’s confrontational when it comes to you, so he’ll let you have your way a lot of the time. He doesn’t like to fight with you.
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆ Bruce was sweet and shy, always making sure you were comfortable and had everything you needed. He never judged you when you’d tell him your stories or your past, he never accused you of things, and he never raised his voice at you when things would get frustrating. He loved you too much, appreciated you too much. You had no idea how happy you made him even if his face didn’t show it.
He was still wary, scared you’ll leave him, scared one of his enemies will find you out and take you away from him. But he was always there, watching and protecting, hiding in the shadows, being the shadow, on the nights you didn’t know. He may have been Gotham’s protector, but he was also yours.
He loved you and was grateful for you, so grateful he met you when he did and that you trusted him enough to let him see every lovely part of you. He vowed to protect you, to cherish you, and he made good on that promise. Even going as far as to blow out your candle every day before you’d leave for work. Couldn’t have you burning your house down, now could he?
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Honestly, I could go on and on about this man so I think I have to end this here. But thank you for reading and hope you enjoyed, especially @diavolosbaby who requested this. I really hope you like it, and if you’re not satisfied or I didn’t answer your ask correctly then don’t be afraid to tell me 💕💕 constructive criticism isn’t bad mmkay ☺️💕
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angelst4re · 2 years
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hi beb <3 so.....lately i got obsessed with cedric diggory so i tought about if you could write about cedric x preg!reader fic where they r already out of hogwarts and they now both are in dumbledore's team ofc and they have a kiddo who is going to hogwarts in this year. so as she leaves they go home and have a really hot and spicy day.... meaning that they fuck on every possible surface. thank u if you write this i love u smmm!
hi love!! of course. i had a cedric phase once and i wrote some things for him so it was so weird doing it again... i hope you like it!! <3
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Home Alone- Cedric Diggory x Reader [IK THE GIF IS NEIL, I JUST IMAGINE HIM AS OLDER CEDRIC!]
warnings: smut, unprotected sex, i literally just wrote p0rn, the plot is in the request! :)
note: i know what you're thinking... and no i'm not adding ced to the list of people i write for, i'm sorry :( this was just a one time thing bc me and @robertpattinsonslut were talking about this and she had the idea to turn it into a fic! but you never know, one day i might! <3
“We have the place to ourselves now…” Your husband whispered, tucking some hair behind your ear, “how about we make good use of it?”
“But Ced, I have things to do and-“
“So do I,” he snickers, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you closer to him, “starting with… you!”
You smile at his words, he was so cheesy. You give in and pull him down to your level, crashing your lips into his. He kisses back, tangling his hand into your hair as he pulls you impossibly closer.
“Bedroom,” you pant between kisses, “now.”
“No need, angel.” He grins against your lips as he lifts you by your thighs, pinning you against the wall as he continues to kiss down your neck, sucking harshly on the delicate skin. Your legs wrap around his waist and you begin to grind down onto his growing bulge, the friction feeling like heaven on your clothed clit. “That feel good, hm?”
“Fuck yes.” you groan in his ear.
His lips part from your skin as he pulls back to remove his shirt, keeping you against the wall. You attempt to slide your panties down under your dress, but they get stuck whilst they’re halfway down your thighs.
“Someone’s eager.” He smirks, his hands coming down to your thighs, ripping the thin lace from your body. You hear them fall to the ground with a soft thump before Cedric’s lips come back to yours, your sensitive nub now rubbing against the rough fabric of his trousers. His hand comes down to where your bodies meet and begins toying with your clit, causing your mouth to fall open, giving his tongue access.
Cedric could tell when your high was approaching, as he swiftly removed his hand from you and began working on unbuttoning his trousers. Once they fell to the floor he pulled down his boxers, freeing his hard throbbing cock. You let out a sigh when you felt it press against your inner thigh, continuing to move your hips to find any form of friction.
However, you were stopped. One of Cedric’s hands came down to your heat again, lining his cock up with your hole.
“Think you can take it?” He asks, you could hear the smirk through his voice.
“Yes.” You whined, desperately needing to feel him.
“What’s the magic word, pretty girl?” He continues to tease you, using the tip od his dick to play with your clit.
“Please, Ced. Please.” You beg rather impatiently, throwing your head back.
Without warning, he slides into you. Your walls immediately clench around him as you gasp at the wonderful sensation. You hear him suck in his breath once he was fully inside you, before he began to gently thrust his hips. Your nails dig into his back as you try to concentrate on your breathing, not wanting to cum around his cock in a matter of seconds.
His pace picks up quickly, and he quickly realises he needs to move the two of you to somewhere more comfortable, his back was beginning to ache. Before you knew it, you were on the kitchen counter.
You try to push everything out of the way carefully, trying not to smash anything, but Cedric’s thrusts were so hard and deep, you accidentally knocked a glass jar into the sink, causing it to shatter. However, in this moment you couldn’t care less.
“Harder,” you encouraged him, “fuck me harder, Ced. Please.”
And like the good husband he is, he does. Your thighs begin to tremble around his waist as he thrusts into you, brushing the special spot inside of you each time. You’re left a moaning mess under him, begging for him to not stop, begging to cum around his cock.
“I’m close….” You pant, gripping onto the counter with your hands, “Ced, baby don’t stop, don’t stop, please… I’m gonna…”
“Cum for me. Let go, you’ve been so good for me.” He says between breaths.
And you do. Your pussy starts to pulse around him as the wave of your orgasm comes crashing down onto you. Your body glistens with a thin layer of sweat as you throw your head back, letting out a sting of moans, followed by his name over and over again.
When you come back to Earth, you look up at your husband through half-lidded eyes. He smirks, telling you to prepare because he’s going to fuck your brains out.
He decides to move again, this time you were straddling his hips on the sofa, bouncing on his cock, determined to make him cum. You swirl your hips as you sit on his dick, your hands placed on his chest for support before you begin to move up and down again, slower this time, letting yourself feel every inch of him slip out before filling you up again. He lets out a groan as your walls clamp around him again and pulls you down for a kiss.
“Keep bouncing on my cock like that and I’ll give you my mouth, doll.” He whispers against your lips. This motivates you, continuing to move your hips up and down until you feel his cock twitch inside you. He was close. “Did I say stop?”
The new angle he had put you in caused him to go deeper with each move of you hips, so when he began to thrust into you too you were in total bliss, so much that you stopped all your movements, just lying against Cedric’s chest.
“Shit,” he groans, “gonna cum in your pussy, baby. Is that okay?” He asks, continuing to thrust into you.
“Yes, please cum in me Cedric… need to feel you fill me up.” You babble against his chest, your eyes falling shut as you feel him come undone inside you. He takes a deep breath as you try to move your hips again, working him through the aftershocks of his orgasm.
“Your pussy feels too good, angel.” He whispers into your hair, his hand coming down to your back to flip you over, “and tastes like heaven…”
As Cedric positions himself between your thighs, you slide away from underneath him. He gives you a confused glance as you take his hand and lead him into his office room. You sit on his chair and spread your legs as he stands and watches your hand come down to your pussy.
“C’mon, Mr Diggory. Don’t you want to eat your wife out in your office?” You give him the most devilish grin as he drops to his knees in front of you. His face inches away from your hot, dripping cunt.
He takes finger and collects some of his cum mixed with your arousal and uses it as lube to play with your clit. He rubs it from side to side to begin with, watching your face as you bite on your lower lip. He then gives it a light pinch before burying his face into you, his mouth sucking your nub between his lips. You let out a gasp as he slips a finger into your hole, followed by another, and begins to pump them in and out.
“Ced, oh my- don’t stop!”
“Why would I stop, baby? We have all the time in the world now until our babies born,” his spare hand comes up to your bump, “and even after then I’m sure we’ll find some time to have fun.”
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hopesangelsprite · 4 months
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Stress Relief
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Pairing: Battinson x reader
Warnings ⚠️: zero plot whatsoever, pure filth, mating press, overstim, male moaning/whimpering, dubcon maybe (??? Idk), unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it bros), creampie obviously, marking if you squint
MINORS/AGELESS ACCS DNI
Protecting an entire city would take a toll on anyone, so of course some kind of stress relief would be on order. And if that someone was constantly sleep deprived, full of internal conflict, and said city happened to be Gotham... that poor soul had better found a damn good stress reliever.
That's where you come in, pinned underneath your cities' Vengeance for however long he'd keep you there. Night after night, sunrise after sunrise. Tonight was no different than any other except the fact that your broody boy toy had more of an appetite than usual.
Right now, all you can feel is him and all he can feel is you. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you wonder just how long he'd felt this way, just how much frustration he harbored within himself. But the drag of his member against your warm walls is enough to dismiss the thought completely.
"Fucking hell.", Bruce breaths into your shoulder at your clenching walls, "You're so good to me.". Butterflies invade your stomach, intertwining themselves with the stir of your orgasm. You're close to coming again for the nth time this session. Just what had he seen on those damp, dark streets tonight.
"Y-you mean it?", you whimper out as if he isn't fucking your brains into the mattress beneath the two of you. He groans and nods feverishly as his hand abandons your tits to grip the headboard that's banging loudly against the wall. "We're gonna be together forever, princess. Won't let anyone hurt you... just me and you.", he promises in that sweet voice of his. The sweetness of his words and the smoothness of his thrusts mingle perfectly enough to send you farther over the edge. You call his name as you continue coming.
And he talks you through it, praising you and whispering the sweetest nothings. He never misses a stroke, thoroughly fucking you through your orgasm and well beyond it. Your walls continue to flutter and your body feels scorching underneath his. The tips of your fingers as well as the palms of your hands buzz, a telltale sign of overstimulation. You mewl at the feeling of another orgasm building already. Then, his pace changes as he begins to lose himself for the first time tonight. This time you're unable to stop him.
"Fuck.", he swears as his hand leaves the headboard and grips the pillow next to your head. Bruce's face falls back into the crook of your neck and he audibly moans. You can feel the tension rolling off him in waves, the smell of his leather suit now completely masked by the smell of sex in the air.
His pace quickens and more curses fall from his reddened lips. You mewl and begin to squirm as the overstimulation starts to grow far too much. Though your brains have been thoroughly fucked out, you manage to beg, "P-please... I can't-". You cut yourself off with a loud wanton moan as Bruce's other hand slips between you from your other thigh to press on your lower abdomen. He feels so good inside of you it's unbearable.
Your moans spur him on as he presses a bit harder. "Need... need you to come for me. One more time.", he requests drawing a whine from you. "Can't, 's too much!", you whine as you feel your thighs shake on either side of him. He huffs as he presses again earning pretty sobs of pained pleasure from your puffy lips. "You can, princess, know you can. Said you could take it, didn't you?", he encourages in between pretty moans and you can hear his sanity slowly slipping away. Still, you protest once more.
He growls lowly as his hand dips lower to begin mercilessly toying with your swollen clit. You yelp as you reach between your bodies to weakly tug at his wrist. He's stronger than you so your struggling waxes futile. "Bruce-", you try to reason with him, "Too much!". He quickens his ministrations at your words and you cry out as you feel the familiar knot begin to form in the pit of your stomach.
"Shh shh shh, it's okay... almost there, princess.", he whispers through labored breaths, "I'm almost there.". You want to tell him that you almost are too, but you can't seem to form the proper words. His grip on the pillow tightens, and the movement of his hips becomes jerky.
"Fuck, please I need it so bad... So, so badly.", he moans quietly, almost to himself, "please, please, please..". Hearing him completely lose his composure nearly throws you off the edge. The way he's begging damn near sends you into orbit. "Pretty girl's gonna let me cum inside, right? Please?", he asks and your heart swells with love. Who are you to deny him when he's asking so politely?
You nod as your vision fills with stars, "Yes!". He whimpers into your neck as his frantic thrusts signal his impending release. You begin to squirm harder, and his hand slides from the pillow to grip your hip. His hold on you is strong despite the soft sounds leaving his mouth.
He presses you farther into the mattress, and you're sure you'll have a bruise on your hip the size of his hand tomorrow morning. "Jus' a little bit more..", he trails off to bite at your hickey covered shoulder. "Need to finish, I'll be so f-fucking good to you... be so fuckin' good to my princess, promise.", his words slur together. With that, you come for the umpteenth time and he's not too far behind.
The both of you shudder with overwhelming pleasure, and weak whimpers of each other's names seem to be the only thing either one of you can articulate. Hot, thick ropes of his cum spurt into your spasming walls painting them white and filling you up so much it begins to leak out.
Secretly, you hope Gotham's streets keep sending him back to you even more needy than this.
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malexmalesstuff · 10 months
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Request list!!
- requests open!
- no limit
- main acct @kaiispost
Robert Pattinson (and his characters)
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Josh Hutcherson (and his characters)
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Manu Rios (and his characters)
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Harry Styles
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and more…🫧✨
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thewritermj · 5 months
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cameras flashes, that's how we crashed
battinson!bruce wayne X reader
part 1
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summary: on a press conference, bruce finds a journalist who's up to his standards
warnings: usual gotham violence, quick discrimination of a serial killer, not actually smut in this, but in the future so NSFW MDNI
a/n: forgive any grammatical mistakes, english is not my first language!!! Bruce lives in the manor instead of the Wayne Towers cuz I like the manor vibe more, also I kinda picture Jim Gordon from the Gotham Tv show, cuz I love that version but it doesn't really matters lol. (nothing said above is useful for this reading but I just thought you should know) also, this takes place one year after the movie
Bruce sat quietly on the car, the ride was awfully short. He wished he had more time to mentally prepare to his first press conference. He was a recluse for most part of his life, but after the scandal about The Gotham Renewal Program, people deserved to know the truth. And the idea of continuing his family legacy of charity and philanthropy wasn’t all bad and kept Alfred out of his nerves for a while.
And even tough Bruce Wayne could crack a fake smile to the cameras, throw charity galas and events, the true help came at night. The only possible salivation Gotham could have, the real way he could help the city was as Vengeance. The Batman. He didn’t think of himself as a hero, or a vigilante, more of a necessary evil; all the violence and anger, the rage and the darkness of his work, his project; people would be outraged if they found out they were the same man.
“We’re here, Mr. Wayne” The driver announced.
Alfred, who as sitting across from Bruce on the limo closed the papers he was reading and smiles softly.
“Ready, master Bruce?”
Bruce sighs.
“Not really”
The car parked inside the underground garage of the Wayne Enterprises, Bruce and Alfred made their way to the elevator, not a word was said.
Bruce stole a glance at his reflection on the mirror. A black suit Alfred picked for him, a W embroidery on its lapel, his hair was short now, shorter than he liked, all slicked back by hair gel, but nothing could hide the dark circles under his eyes or the lack of sun colour on his skin. Sometimes, just sometimes, Bruce wishes he didn’t have to wear normal clothes, to comb his hair, ties his bottoms; he wishes he could live inside the Batsuit. He felt like the suit was his own skin, her armour, him and Batman were on, there was no Bruce Wayne without Vengeance, they were bonded forever and could never be separated from each other. He wish they could, he wish he could be Batman alone; no press conferences, no reports, paparazzi, no “Bruce Wayne crowned prince of Gotham.”
The elevator stops and the door open. Alfred goes our first and greet some people outside, telling them where to go.
“You have 10 minutes, Bruce.” He warns, “I’ll get them stared and you wait here till I call you”
Bruce nods.
He sits down on a leather couch and waits, starring at the glass doors. All the reports and journalists waiting for him, men and women, from Gotham and other places of the world.
He’s nervous. Not nervous like he is before a fight, nervous he will be put on a corner, that he’ll be catch on a lie, nervous someone knows. It’s like someone in the next room it’s just waiting for him to appears, to stand up from their chair and ask ‘Are you the Batman?’
“Ladies and gentleman, Bruce Wayne” Alfred announces from the stage and glances at him.
Bruce works on his better smile he can put on and enters the stage; he’s received with thunderous applauses and blinding cameras flashes. He waves and sit on a chair, in a wooden desk in front of him is a glass of water and a microphone.
“Let’s get, started then” Alfred said, pointing to a woman in a grey dress standing with a microphone in her hand.
“Mr. Wayne, why did you decided to throw a press conference after years of reclusiveness?”
Bruce leans into her direction a bit.
“Well, I think all the events of the past year made me realize how much the Wayne Foundation means to Gotham and I’ve been a little reckless with that matter”
It was a good answer, he thought.
The following questions were easy too, “Mr. Wayne, how do you plan on taking care of the raised money? To prevent anything to happen again”, “What’s the difference between the Wayne Foundation and the Gotham Renewal Program?”, “What projects do you have in mind?”, and of course, some shallow questions, “What brand is your suit?”, “What car do you drive?”, question he almost laughed at. Did people actually wanted to know that?
Bruce was thinking how the conference was going well, easy, almost, not as he had pictured it before. Until…
“Mr. Wayne, what do you think about The Batman?”
He flinched for half a second, he opened his mouth but nothing came out.
Another woman asked something he didn’t quite hear with all that was going on inside his head, but the word Batman was also there. And then another, and another…
“Mr. Wayne, what do you think about The Batman?”
The room turned into a complete circus. Grown adults talking over each other, fighting for a turn on the microphone.
You rolled your eyes. This happens every time, someone thinks about the name Batman and suddenly everyone has something to say. What does it matter Bruce Wayne’s thought of the Batman? There were so much important questions to be asked, so much more to discover about that man’s life and projects than a simple opinion.
You were begging to regret the moment you accepted the offer to come to this conference. You weren’t a regular journalist, you didn’t know how to write an article about the weather, fashion trends, social events, you wrote about thing most journalist didn’t want to, thing that most people were scare to read. People scared of the truth. You weren’t. You would dig and dig until the raw verity came to surface, it didn’t matter where or who you had to dig.
The man who had introduced Mr. Wayne appeared again and announced the press conference. No fucking way, no without the answers you wanted, you didn’t take this job to watch other people ruin it.
Slowly, you got up from your sit and walked towards the person who as holding the microphone and gently pull it away from his hands.
“Mr. Wayne…” but the voices around you were too loud.
You gave the head of the mic a flick, the loud keen sound made the room come silent.
“Sorry.” You apologized. “Mr. Wayne, why did you felt the urge to re-open the school project at the marginalized neighbourhoods of Gotham after your father failed attempted?”   
The men was halfway leaving, but he turned around reluctant, staring right at you. Those piercing blue eyes roaming your face.
“Well, I believe the project needs a second chance. Children and teenagers should be given a chance to have a good education, it helps getting them out of the streets.” He answered, without the microphone his voice was low, but the silence of the room let you hear him loud and clear. “Who do you write for?”
“The Gotham Gazette” You answered proudly.
Mr. Wayne whispered something to the other man and sat back at the chair.
“Do you have any more questions, Miss…?”
You smile politely and told him your name.
“Would you say that the Wayne Foundation has an impact outside of Gotham?”
A ghost of a smile appeared on the man’s lips. You shook the urge to smile back at him.
You could tell he was a bit nervous, but he had answered the questions with manners and the right words, maybe he didn’t notice, but he’s quite good at it.
“Yes. I think the work we do on the Foundation inspires people to do the same. If it works out, we can show the world that if there was hope for Gotham there’s hope for them too”
“Do you think there’s hope for Gotham?” You asked, out of spite, because you didn’t write it down before the press.
His lips contracted to a thin line and he thought of it for a few seconds before answering:
“Yes. As long as people like me and you care about what happens here, there’s still hope for the city”
You smiles.
“People like me?”
“You seem to know a lot about the charity work, and you care enough to show it to the world”
Your smile grew bigger and you felt a hint of warm rushing through your cheeks.
Mr. Wayne answered a few more of your questions before the press conference was over.
You were, oh, so proud of yourself. The information you gathered was perfect for what you had in mind and for sure, you could make it a good article. An admiring of the Wayne legacy, that’s what you called yourself. It has always called out to you what that wealth family did; they had no obligation to do it, to donate not just money, but time and resources to help those who couldn’t have what they did, to make Gotham something to be proud of. It’s a shame they never lived long enough to cure it, to heal it. However, you hoped that, maybe, Bruce did. At least he sound determined to.  
You gathered your things and your purse, but as you made your way to the elevator, a woman dresses on formal clothes approached you with a clean, sharp smile that made her look like a dental paste commercial.
“Excuse me, miss. Would you mind, following me?”
You frowned.
“Ahn…What for?”
“Mr. Wayne wishes to speak to you” She explained and her smile somehow grew wider.
Standing there for a few seconds, all you could do was nod as you followed her through a long corridor. What was happening right now? He wants to speak to you? Bruce Wayne wishes to speak to a journalist in private? And more important, to you.
She opened a door to a breath-taking office.
Right in front of you was a full wall window, a panoramic view of Gotham in all its “glory”, skyscrapers, apartment buildings, the clock tower, the bridge of the river, the field behind the road, you could see everything from up there. There was a wooden desk in front of the window, quite empty, and a chair that looked more comforting than any other you had ever sat.
When the woman closed the door behind you, your attention changed to the man standing on your left. Bruce Wayne was staring at you dead in the eyes with a facial expression of someone who just saw a ghost.
This guy seriously need some sunbathing. You shook that thought out of your head.
“Mr. Wayne. You wanted to speak to me?”
“Yes” His raspy voice responded. “Sit, please”
You took a seat on one of the chairs in front of the chair and he sat opposite of you, behind the desk, diving completely into the velvet chair. He crosses his fingers and stares at you again. It made you a little uncomfortable, he did that a lot, like a hunter watching its prey.
“So…”
“I’ve searched your work. You’re really good.”
“Thank you, sir”
“You won a Pulitzer, am I right?”
“Yes, a few years ago”
When did he get the time to read all this information? It’s not like you’re super famous, even the Pulitzer wasn’t a very known prize if you didn’t know the industry.
“For a book about a serial killer in Detroit” He said, a voice that verged into an interrogation tone. “The Divine Move?”
You blinked a few times.
“I…Yes. Nathan Walters.”
He lifted his eyebrows just an inch, telling you to continue the story.
You cleared your throat.
“He uh, he used to be the altar boy of the neighbourhood church and he chose his victims based on the sins he supposed they’ve committed.” You’ve shorten it, you couldn’t understand why a billionaire was asking you about the modus operandi of a criminal who was thousands of miles away.  “Why are you asking me this, if I may ask, Mr. Wayne?”
“You’re an investigative journalist. Why are you attending press conferences of a random billionaire?”
You supressed a laugh. Random.
“I grew up here, sir. I’ve always admired your family work, I took the opportunity when it was offered to me.”
“You seem to know a lot about my family history.”
“Like I said, I’m just an admiring. Although, I once thought of writing a book about the Wayne Legacy. Your legacy, sir.”
“Your legacy, sir”.
Bruce looked down at his cufflinks, the W prominent on a silvery material.
His legacy.
He once thought the Wayne Foundation was his legacy. But now he knew, his true legacy came in a bat shaped suit and sleepless nights; it came on purple coloured bruises and blood stained clothes.
“Why didn’t you?”
“Well…it’s very hard to write about something when you only get superficial information.”
You were nervous, he could tell. You kept staring at the view behind him, or at your shoes, tanking a little too long to answer his questions. He wondered how could a journalist gets nervous, almost shy.
He gave you a puzzled look, not using any words to express his question. But you understood it.
“Using material that was wrote by someone else. All the records and stories about your parents have already been wrote by someone else before me, so I couldn’t say it was my work, could I?”
He hummed.
Bruce took a sigh. Maybe. Maybe this was a good idea, it could keep him in a good status with the press, plus, he’d be able to hide even further down his secret identity, having a journalist with him every day? No one would suspect his the Batman.
“There are stories and details that haven’t been told.”
You bit your lower lip.
He stared at you.
“What are you implying, sir?”
“If I tell you the stories, would you write it?”
“If I tell you the stories, would you write it?”
You almost passed out.
Would you?
Who could say they had a proposal like that? Dig into the secrets of the Wayne family?
“Yes”.
___________________
a/n2: aaaah this is actually so boring I'm so sorry, also I think I made bruce a little more talkative than I would've but anyways I may change it yet.
a special thank you to @preciouslandmermaid for inspiring me to finally write this!! <3
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angelltheninth · 1 year
Text
Restraining Vengeance
Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, handcuffs, teasing, topping from the bottom
Word count: 0.5k
Kinktober Day 11: Restraints
Ao3
A/N: Battinson time! I love this sad, emo version of him with all my heart. He definitely has a kinky side to him and I'm exploring it here in this kinktober fic.
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Bruce playfully tugs on the handcuffs, a low groan escaping him as you rub the tip of his cock against your entrance, "You know I can escape from these easily?"
You raise an amused eyebrow at him, taking him in, just in inch, "Yes. But I know that you won't. You said you liked the idea. Honestly Bruce, where was this side of you when we began dating?" You smirk at him, squeezing your cunt around his tip, his hips jerking upwards while you pull away, teasing him more.
"I was trying to be a gentleman." His cock twitches as you rubbed the tip in slow circles before descending downwards, squeezing him around the hilt and then dragging your hand back up painfully slowly, "Perhaps I should have been more forward." With a smirk he snaps his hips into yours, rubbing his cock against your clit, making you falter and gasp.
You try your best to get a good angle, to take him in but Bruce's hips won't stop. It gets so frustrating that you have to push them down with all your might just to get his cock lined up. You can hear him tugging on the handcuffs, metal scraping against wood, his raged breathing, the sloppy wet sounds of your wet pussy rubbing against his cock.
"It would have... speed up a few things." Like you jumping into his bed. Although getting eaten out at a gala while hiding in the closet wasn't exactly slow either. "Now hold still for a moment. Let me get it in."
You saw a smile touch the corner of his lips only for it to quickly be replaced by a breathy gasp as he was finally sheathed in your wet cunt, your walls clamping down around him, taking him in until you could comfortably sit on his legs.
Bruce doesn't keep still for a second, as soon as you take your place on top if him he starts bucking his hips into yours, his heels digging into the bed for leverage, his arms pulling with the need to embrace you, to touch you.
You see him start to move his hands around, his fingers flex downwards, "Bruce, you promised."
He groans and takes a deep breath, "I did." He stops his movements for but a moment before going in balls deep once again, his hands stopping their fidgeting. "Don't worry. I'll still make you come."
"Please." You moan as you feel him in deep, his cock scraping your inner walls, his hips slapping against yours with almost reckless abandon. "Please Bruce. Fuck me hard. I need it."
He knows you does. The way your cunt keeps trying to milk his cock is even more evidence of it. He loves seeing you let go like this, loves feeling the scratch of your nails against his abs, feeling you massage him on the way up, pressing your thumbs against his pecks and his nipples then back again.
He can't help but give you what you want, what you crave. As many orgasms as you need, every drop of his cum as he slams his cock to the hilt and empties inside of you, making it all flow out, across his thighs and balls and the sheets.
Feeling you shaking and collapsing on top of him, lazily kissing his chest as you mumble your thanks is all the drive he'll ever need to do this as many times as it takes. Even if his arms are starting to go a little numb.
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waynewifey · 7 months
Text
aporia — b.w
part one : dear mr. wayne
part two: aftermath
part three: aporia
epilogue
sumary: aporia suggests “an impasse”, a knot or an inherent contradiction found in any text, an insuperable deadlock, or “double bind” of incompatible or contradictory meanings which are “undecidable”. [reference]
pairing: battinson/bruce wayne x reader
genre: drama & romance
warnings: mental health struggle, miscarriage, car crash, a lot of internal dialogue
word count: 2k
A/N: the more i write, the more i put myself in this story. i feel like this ‘you’ is so complex i can’t help but try to explain her further. part four will be bruce’s perspective on all of this + an epilogue. i’m so grateful for the amazing feedback given on the last two parts and for the new followers, thank you so so much. i hope you enjoy this. (also this gif??? HELLO???)
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GOTHAM. USA.
— bargaining.
the uncomfortable silence makes you want to scream. she told you that was a normal reaction and they couldn't get rid of those moments, they were essential for your self reflection. the problem was being alone with your thoughts, even for just one minute. they keep deciding you won't recover any time soon. everyone keeps holding you like a cracked vase. even negligence was better than being put under the microscope.
"i don't know what you want me to say" you respond, your gaze anxiously shuffling between the objects in the room. the woman's eyes, however, don't ever leave your face. she holds that journal like a scientist analysing a mutation. like you're some weird thing.
"you should say whatever you feel like saying." that's what she always answers. dr. quinn was extremely stoic, even for a therapist. you still liked her, though, because her pragmatic approach helped you shift your point of view and see yourself from an outside perspective, which made you want to help yourself. after weeks of feeling extra irritable, still trying to forgive your husband for lying to you, you realised maybe everything was too much for you to handle by yourself. you wanted to go back to the real world but before that, you had to do this. a quick chat with your psychiatrist and he gave you the contact to harley quinn.
"i think i've been way too mean to bruce" your confession has her nodding, like that observation had been made sessions before and she was waiting for you to realise that. "he's been so supportive and helpful, but sometimes words just fly out of my mouth and i don't even mean them"
"do you think it's easier to blame him than to come to terms with what actually happened?" you can't answer, because this was all you've asked yourself lately. you were a coward, hiding behind his suffering to prevent confronting yours. it's easy to curse him, to reject him, but it's not what you want to do. lately it feels like you don't have any control over your emotions and actions. you thought maybe if you pushed away the last person that still cared for you, you could disappear in your loneliness and finally stop hurting. "y/n you've been through something terrible. the kind of thing we never think it's gonna happen to us. i know it doesn't feel real, but you have to face it that it is. the thing about trauma... you have to keep living with it. you have to keep going, because it doesn't go away. but this is your life and you don't get to stay on standby. you hurt the people you love because it's better than hurting yourself. you told me you feel bad about it, so why won't you change?"
why won't you? you don't even know where to start. it felt comfortable living in sorrow forever. horrible, but comfortable. again, it was in fact easier to blame him than to accept this was reality. but he's right outside, been waiting for you for two hours, as he has done twice a week for over a month. you weren't being fair to him. he didn't deserve this. dr. quinn sees the defeat in your eyes and sighs in a mission accomplished type of breath.
"think about this, okay? we'll talk on friday." you nod, as if you weren't already overthinking it.
bruce sees you before listening to you. he's created the habit to stay in the waiting room with headphones in, blasting loud music. he didn't want you to feel like he was prying on you. he also didn't want to listen anything you had to say about him. you had the right to be mad at him, given everything that had happened. he knew you didn't mean it when you bomb dropped the word 'divorce' every now and then. it would take you some time to get back to normal and he wouldn't rush you.
you walk to the car quietly and get into the driver's seat. he agreed to let you drive to and from therapy. the office was actually in dr. quinn's house, a little bit on the country side of the city, if you could call it that. it was a 50 minute drive with no traffic, roads empty enough for you to drift off in you thoughts. he watches you drive, eyes brightening up a little more everyday. he realised that trying to shield you from the world wasn't going to work out. you need to learn how to be on your own. he needs to learn how to care for you while away.
"i'm sorry," you caught him off guard, observing the curves of your face. he frowns at the unexplained sentence. you glance at him but look back at the road. "for the way i've been acting. for pushing you away. for being too complicated. i know you're trying to help… thank you for staying."
"darling, of course. for better or for worse, remember? i'm never leaving you. we're getting through this, together. and don't you worry about me, i'll be okay when you are too, alright? you're doing great, i can see how much you're working towards it." he holds out a hand for you and you take it, intertwining your fingers. his calloused palms are softer now, courtesy of the months without batman-ing. they still embrace yours entirely and warm the cold tips of your fingers.
"i love you" the sweetness of that feeling dominates your tastebuds and it's almost like the day you started dating. that innocent type of love that consist of the pure enjoyment of each others company. however, your attempt to savour the moment is ruined by a shape in your peripheral eyesight.
"i love you too" bruce's voice is muffled by the anxious thoughts taking over your mind. the panic starts to overflow. he notices your body getting stiff and the wheel looking loose on your hand. your breathing lost it's rhythm to creaking gasps. there's something wrong. your eyes are frozen in a vehicle. he's seen this van before. maybe not this one, but an identical one, in a security camera tape in court. it looks exactly like the one that took you. "baby, hey, hey. i'm right here." you don't pay any mind to the man beside you. you can't, not when your instincts are telling you to run. not when you can feel the gun getting knocked on your head over and over again. bruce is saying something. the tears are blurring your sight. this is too much.
he's calling you screaming at this point, tears are rolling down your cheeks and you still haven't looked away from the van. there's a bump coming up, the car is dangerously fast and you're not driving at all. he goes for the wheel but isn't quick enough. the tires wiggle, going in their own direction. the car changes lanes, getting in the wrong way of the street. another car is coming and the impact isn't light. your head is thrown forwards, the airbag covering your face. the windshield shatters and little pieces of glass get stuck in your hair. the crash isn't too bad, you're both still awake and only the front has been smashed. but you get out hyperventilating, falling onto the ground and weeping.
bruce gets out as well, only a scratch on the forehead. he has to kneel on the dirt to hold you up. for a while, he doesn't say anything. the other driver is standing, phone in the ear. he's also fine. the cars were the only damage. two other drivers stop by, offering help. you wish he could help you, but it seems as if there's something inherently wrong with you.
— depression.
the weeks following the accident were harsh. it took a while to get you believing in recovery again. you still weren't sure. somehow there was press at the site, so pictures of you crying next to a car crash made it to the papers. there's minor commentary online about you faking it for your husbands popularity. most of the netizens feel desperately sorry for you and have painted you to be their new princess diana, the comparison seems wild to you.
you only go online every three days or so, because you can't resist the urge to know what bruce hasn't been telling you. jokes on you, he's actually been a lot more transparent lately. you agreed that the batman would show up to the sentence of edward nashton, to pressure the jury with his presence. it worked and the criminal got life without parole. the lawyers said that your public presence impacted on his trial, as 20 years was the standard. you were just glad he wouldn't do that to anybody else ever again. the case got national and your family from outside the state, that you not-so-kindly kept in the dark, started making contact, victimising you all over again.
but things were getting better, gradually. it had been almost a year and it felt like that chapter of your life was finally being finished. you were trying to get your life back, including your driver's license. it was suspended for a while after the accident, so now you had to submit a bunch of medical records to prove that you were mentally fine to drive again. that's how you found yourself in bruce's home office, searching everywhere for your documents. you could've asked him where he put it, but he had just fallen asleep in the living room and you didn't want to disturb him.
in one of the desk's drawers, you find a folder with the local hospital logo on it. you open it, shuffling through the papers you've seen before. only one stands out, with "ob/gyn" on the top of the sheet. you wonder if there's anything helpful there. your eyes start reading the words one by one, listing the examinations they've done on you. the subject changes abruptly.
the ultrasound analysis reports the miscarriage of an unknown pregnancy to the patient's spouse.
you feel like you're about to throw up. the world starts spinning as you force yourself to continue to read.
the fetus was estimated to be in the development stage of the beginning of the second trimester. the miscarriage was most likely a result of several mechanical trauma. dilation and curettage was performed with the patient in a medically induced coma.
you try to remember to breathe in and breathe out just like dr. quinn taught you. you expect the tears but they don't come out. the panic doesn't come. it's suddenly so quiet. it's not like a hole has been punched through your chest, it's like you have no chest at all. it's like you don't even exist. you somehow sit down, your body does. you feel as if it's moving on it's own and you're just watching from afar. your thoughts sound so distant, so irrelevant. you can only think of the baby that had once been inside of you and you didn't even realised. you didn't have the time to love him. you've had him there, right there, the thing you wanted the most in the world and he was taken from you. everything was taken from you.
if a tree falls on a forest, and there's no one around to hear, does it still make a sound? it felt like your fall was silent.
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